Happy Mother's Day, 2017!

While part of me automatically dismisses "made-up holidays", I haven't found a strong enough reason not to get swept up in the celebrations that kids put together for Mother's Day.

Of course, every day is Mother's Day and Father's Day,  Grandma's Day and Grandpa's Day,  Daughter's Day and Son's Day,  Brother's Day and Sister's Day... And, not all of us can make every day special for all those someones we care deeply about.

Being a staunch Wish List advocate, we've always kept a running wish list for each of us, kids included. Some of the items, we have to work for it ourselves, and some of it can be given to us by others. Oddly enough, most of my wish list items turn out to be generally for the family, not just exclusively for me... every once in a while, I'll have a camera accessory or car accessory or a garden accessory on the wish list that nobody else cares about, and feel extremely thrilled when I get it as a gift exclusively for me.

I am rambling already....

Speaking of Mother's day, the kids declared; "Mama, you like hikes, so, for Mother's Day, that's what you are getting as your present."

So we went hiking, on a trail that was quite deserted but for small game, and drank in the beauty of nature and its wildlife.

The best part for me is, kids hang out with the dad on the trail, and I get to walk at my pace, stopping for pictures, letting my thoughts wander and generally trying to let go of the constant stress I feel to balance everything I am juggling.

One of the thoughts that nagged me throughout this walk, no matter how hard I tried to push it away, is this ever-present one: Why can't we as a society find a better balance for raising families in a constructive and positive way, while allowing for parents to pursue their professional careers with all the support they need.

For example, trendy companies offer dog room and gym and cafeteria and other comforts for their employees. In my Utopia, these companies will also offer Montessori-based childcare for K-12! 

The biggest struggle that we face as working parents is to find a safe place for kids to be when we are not with them as we are pursuing our own professionally fulfilling lives outside of domestic environment.

School of course is only 9 to 3 in my district, with 1-hour late start on Wednesdays. 

As employees, we owe it to our employers to honor our commitment of not just x hours of work, but our commitment to high quality of productive and efficient contribution.

The other adult and I are constantly facing the challenge of being in two places at once: be at the office to interface with our teams and have interpersonal interactions that foster team spirit for the standard office hours, and at the same time, find a way to be there for the kids so they are not latchkey kids.

And, understandably, this thought has begun to nag me even more now that nearly 12 weeks of Summer holidays are looming large on the horizon. Not all kids are wired to attend summer camps; and even if they are, not all parents can juggle the logistics of dropping them off and picking them up at odd hours, while still trying to be at their jobs that will help pay for these expensive summer camps.

Agreed, some of us are lucky to have employers who support flexible schedules as long as employees can be productive contributors. Some of our jobs permit telecommuting and helps us collaborate with our team via advanced technology, while managing our kids' summer break somehow. But what about those others who have no flexibility? 

Anyway, I am rambling again... If there was an easy solution, we wouldn't be where we are now...

Back to Mother's Day, where I started: I was grateful to savor the made-from-scratch  "Mama's Special" Pizza that the other adult is well-known for. So, what's in Mama's Special: Eggplant, kale, onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, pineapple, feta. Not much mozzarella or cheddar as Mama does not like pizzas smothered in cheese. And it is fairly thin crust. And the sauce is home-made to Mama's liking with just the right touch of home-garden oregano. And, best of all, it is not made by Mama!

Little Minions

Stretched on the sofa eating bon-bons and reading my favorite book while the little minions er... elves jump to my bidding er request... Ha!

Thanks to establishing The Cleaning Elves lifestyle over 2 years ago, things are a bit easier to handle. Kids still struggle to put things back in their allotted spots on a daily basis, they still need plenty of reminders to organize their things, they still need a healthy dose of carrot-and-stick routine for some basic tasks...

But the one thing I am grateful for (for as long as it lasts, fingers crossed), is the unloading of the dishwasher, my least favorite job. When they come back from school, the younger one unloads and puts away the non-breakables which is conveniently in the lower cupboards that he can reach. The older child puts away the breakables in the upper cupboards. They know exactly where everything goes and they unload quite enthusiastically.

No, it's not any magic spell that I cast. Just that, after the dishwasher is unloaded they earn 30 minutes of laptop or iPad time. Seems antithetic that a reward would be "screen time" but since the younger one looks up things like plioplatecarpus during his iPad turn, and the older one plays Animal Jam with her old friends on her laptop, it doesn't seem like such a bad deal for me.

Particularly since, School Days are Not Watch Days.

If only I can get them to not generate so much dirty laundry and have them make their own dinners, I'll be all set for that stretch-on-sofa-eat-bon-bon routine...

Home-grown Organic Fresh Apple Cider

The Jonagold apple tree in our yard yields a reasonable amount of fruit every other year. This year was the good-yield one. Since we don't use any pesticides, many of the apples were happily visited and inhabited by codling moth and beetles, and quite a few squirrels and birds helped themselves as well. Finally, it seemed like it was time to harvest the remainder.

Sensing a lesson in there somewhere and a chance to work together as a family, we embarked on a joint effort to pick the apples and make fresh apple cider. Everybody had a job to do and within 3 hours we had a gallon and a half of fresh apple cider - the fruits of our labor.

Kids and Papa picked the apples, sorting them as best as they can.

The youngest filled a colander at a time with apples; dunked the colander in a handy bucket of water to rinse the apples; then brought it to Papa at the table. Papa used the apple corer to core the apples, while the older child and I sorted through the cut sections to discard any yucky pieces and save the good ones.

When all the apples were cut and sorted and ready, Papa juiced them in the juicer, while I did an initial filtering to extract fresh cider and store in the fridge.

And now the small and unassuming little tree stands barren, getting ready for fall, and another year of minimal yield.

The Not-a-Stick Magic Twig

"Remember, Oggie? No sticks in the house. Leave it in the yard, okay?"

"But, Mama! It's not a stick! It's my Magic Twig. It lets me do all kinds of magic and has all kinds of powers."

"Oh, really? I'd like to see one magic that it can do right now."

"OK. Watch. I am going to do the Save Magic." [touches head with twig, saying the word 'Save']

[half a minute or so elapses...]

"Hm. I can't see anything happening..."

"Well, it is a protection magic, so, anything I don't want will not happen for one whole minute! You have to think of what you want to not happen to you, but not say it out loud."

"So what did it protect you from now?"

"From hugs and kisses, Mama! See? The magic did not let me get hug and kiss for one whole minute! "

"But, that doesn't seem like fun magic to me. What would happen to me if I tried to hug and kiss you when this Save Magic is on?"

"You'll disappear for one minute till the magic goes away."

"Oh. That sounds like fun. Can you do it again so I can try to hug you and see where I disappear to?"

"Nah. I don't want to do it now. Maybe later."

"But, shouldn't it protect you from hurts and owwies and accidents instead?"

"Well, love hurts, Mama! You always pinch-kiss my cheeks and squish-hug my body. But, if you want protection from getting hurt badly if you are in a car crash, you can use this, okay? I'll share the Magic Twig with you for that."

"I will say no more"

"Can I have this candy?"
No.
"I love candy! I don't get to eat it every day. So, can I have one more now?"
Not now.
"How come I can't have another piece of candy?"
You've had enough already.
"But, I just had 4 pieces. I want to have one more!"
I hear you. We agreed that you get to choose 4 pieces for now. And you did. So you are done.
"But the third and fourth were the same type so they don't count! I wanted 4 different types! So I get to choose one more?"
No. But, keep that in mind the next time you get to choose candies.
"But you never buy candy. I got it for Valentine's day from my friends! I want to know what this tastes like."
They all taste sugary sweet. Just save it for another day.
"But, why am I allowed only 4 now?"
...

---

"Can I watch another episode?"
No. You've just watched 3 in a row!
"But I love this show. So, can I watch one more?"
Three was the limit for this time, remember? Maybe another day.
"But, I don't want to see it another day, I want to see it today when it is more fun for me!"
...

---

"Can you play Pinch-Bottom-Monster with me?"
We just played that game for half an hour!
"Yeah, but that was not enough time!"
We set the timer and I said I'd play for 30 minutes and we did.
"But, Mama! That was too short! I want to play for a long time!"
You can play till dinner time, but I have to go and make dinner now. That's why we set the timer, remember?
"But, you did not play the way I wanted, so you have to play again and set the timer again for 30 minutes!"

...

---

Increasingly whining tone, mounting irritation at not getting the way, finding loopholes and negotiating wildly...

Well, you get the picture. Kids are natural that way.

Of course, there are many ways to handle it, depending on the child's age & maturity, the situation, and the nature of the request. Some work well, some don't at times. It's all part of the game of life.

I am glad that they are not at the stage in life where their hormones and sense of independence will nudge them to scream, "I don't care what you say, I am going to eat that 5th piece of candy whether you like it or not!" OR "I will watch as long as I want, you are not the boss of me!"

Keeping a neutral voice and being patient despite the barrage of pleas is not an easy prospect when dealing with skilled negotiators, especially when I secretly admire their tenacity and creativity during the process.

The kids have watched LotR several times. So, along the lines of "asked and answered" principle, to indicate that the topic is closed, I decided to quote King Théoden of Rohan when he thwarts Merry's attempt to sway him regarding participation in the war with a simple phrase comprising of 5 words.

The kids are tickled by it - especially when I attach a yarn beard and wear a cardboard crown like the king to deliver my final word. They even manage to stop their dogged persistence and laugh the tense moment away. For now. Phew!

"I will say no more."

Irrepressible Innovator

Early Sunday morning
Coffee on my mind
I wander into the kitchen
Ignoring the buzzing child.

"Mama, I need dirty undies,
Dirty socks, dirty shirt, and lots of paper.
Oh, some soap and towel too.
I'm going to first look in the hamper."

Before the words come together
To explain my quizzical look,
A confident voice assures me,
"Don't worry, it's for an experiment."

The hot decaf barely nudges
The tired old muscles and senses
I catch snatches of precise instructions
Punctuated by eerie silences.

An hour goes by in this fashion
My torpor rarely disturbed
Four cups of perfect decaf
Followed by ritual morning ablutions.

As I emerge fresh and dewy
With stomach grumbling testily
The Guilt Police inside me
Jumps up to tut-tut my laxity.

I go about the breakfast-making
When a thought in the background bursts forth:
It's been awfully quiet for a long time
And, did I hear the word "experiment"?

With breakfast set on the table
I gingerly knock on the closed door
It flies open readily revealing
A beaming five year old.

"Look, Mama, I made cellophane!
I also made swim shorts!
I made some plastic paper
that you can compost later. See?!"

My smiling face barely conceals
The searching look I cast
Scouring the room for the mess left behind
From all the experiments.

I manage to say, Tell me all about it!
Is it done? Can I touch it and feel it?
While quite unsuccessfully my mind inquires
How and When did he learn about cellophane?

"I put a towel on the floor, and a place mat too;
I used a lot of hand soap, some toothpaste, and glue.
I poured some water from the mug
On bits of banana peel and shampoo."

"I'll set these outside to dry soon
Can you help me clean up the room?
I'm done with this experiment now, Mama.
I'll be doing some more this afternoon."

The Cleaning Elves

About 8 years ago, I began to embrace the idea that my house doesn't have to be an extension of my self and be a reflection of my tastes. Coincidentally, that's about when my first child arrived in our midst. 

About 4 years ago, I gave up the notion that if everything had a place and if everything found its way back to its allotted place, then there should be no clutter. Again, quite coincidentally, that's when my toddling second child was determined to show me that the places I've allotted for things are not quite right.

I finally made peace with the discrepancy between what I dreamed my house would be and what I currently have to work with. With time and some creativity, any corner can be turned into a haven, for sure. All it needs is motivation and energy. And possibly a little bit of cash.

Anyway, now, our house is just a place where we love hanging out as a family, despite overflowing laundry hamper and a sink full of dishes, despite the 50 year old kitchen stove and vinyl floor being grease magnets, despite unmade beds and mismatched furniture. It may be unkempt at times (especially on a weekday), but it is also full of care and attention and love and respect, and that's just the way we like it.

When the youngest turned five, we seemed to have some consensus on a common sense of order and cleanliness. Things that irk me the most are well established (unmade bed, dirty toilet and sink, cluttered dining table, dirty dishes, kitchen items rearranged such that I cannot reach blindfolded and find the item I need), as well as things I can let slide till the upcoming weekend (laundry, toys in formation still being played with, crafts and arts and writing works in progress, unswept/unmopped floors, disarray of outdoor shoes by the entrance door).

To that effect, I made a set of index cards for jobs to do. Fifteen jobs in all for now. If these are done, we will all be happy that the house is as we'd like it.

So, in the spirit of teamwork and co-operation, on weekends, the kids and I put on our Cleaning Elves' hats and do our best to maintain the living areas as spic-and-span as we can.

At the chosen hour - which is usually after breakfast on a Sunday, we line up at the dining table where the index cards are laid out, face down. Each of us gets to pick 5 cards and will be responsible for the 5 jobs therein. We are allowed to trade up to 2 cards with each other. 

Then, we go about doing our jobs, asking for help where needed. It is definitely a joint-effort, we are all doing  our jobs at the same time. 

Once a job from the 5 is done, each gets to place that index card back in its container to signify that it is done. Once all our cards are back in the container, the house is clean!

When we started this routine at the beginning of 2013, I knew there'd be some teething issues, growing pains, and learning curves. One kid enjoys dusting (way too much), while the other enjoys cleaning surfaces with a damp sponge (again, way too much). But then, the dusting child also loves the sponge-cleaning tasks. Neither kid likes cleaning the bathroom or kitchen floor. One likes pairing up socks after laundry while the other likes putting the clothes from the washer into the dryer... overall it balances out.

To avoid whines and conflicts, we get to pick the tasks (randomly) each week so none of us really know which ones we will draw. And, we are allowed to trade up to 2 just in case we drew 5 of our least favorite jobs.

"Jobs" not "chores" - we have a job to do and let's do it as best as we can!

No "assigned" jobs they are stuck with, they get to pick and choose each week.
No one is out there by themselves trying to clean - we are all doing it together at the same time. 
Teamwork and co-operation is reinforced, not to mention ownership of the job, plus the thrill of seeing the house clean after their effort.
Jobs are broken down to simple tasks each kid can easily handle. 
Vinegar-based cleaners, usually home-made for most cleaning jobs.

Of course, there are weekends when we have much else to do and we don't get around to being the Cleaning Elves. That's okay. If we get to do this routine about 2 out of 4 weekends a month on an average, it is still worthwhile. 

On the mend

My heart fills with gratitude as Ana is on the mend.

Jolts in life make one stop and count the blessings.

It could have been a lot worse, as head injuries are not to be trifled with.

It had to happen, so it did; no dissections, just good vibrations.


Every once in a while the mind invariably leans towards reassessing the value of seemingly superfluous things. And this recent concussion was one such.

Why do you feel comfortable revealing so much about your family and self while fiercely holding on to some notion of privacy?

Why bother when all of what you write is trivial? Don't you see there are bigger problems in the world? Much suffering and much abuse endured by many? Who cares about your little anecdotes?

Why are you bothering to write tedious detail as if it is an epiphany of sorts?

And if writing is the drive, why not write in some paper journal? Why not just type it up and save it locally? Better yet, why not take up a cause and write for it?

Despite the constant self-questioning about blogging, right from the start about five years ago, I've kept it up as it has been therapeutic in some sense. And when it ceases to be so, I guess I'll be ready for good-byes.

Concussion

Ringing Cell Phone.
Reluctant Answering.
Disbelief.
Momentary Paralysis.
Rapid-firing Call-to-Action Signals.
Emotional Turmoil.
Drumming Heart.
Pounding Head.

I am not sure I registered anything much after I took one look at my baby in pain awaiting medical attention, still retained in school. The necessary mechanism took over in me and the required call was made and rushed with her to the hospital where it was declared that she was suffering from symptoms of concussion.

She injured the back of her head at P.E. in school. It must've been a mighty bad hit. The nausea, the seeing-stars, the mild disorientation, the headache, the inconsolable cries... symptoms she exhibited and even verbalized before getting terribly drowsy. Symptoms that immediately sent up red flags...

By the grace of God, she did get her doctor's care and the necessary tests were done and was put under the 24-48 hrs observation.

Many thoughts, many grateful thoughts, not to mention prayers and acceptance were surging in my head when she was released to us to take home with instructions to keep her under observation.

Never take anything for granted the inner voice keeps playing on repeat mode.

And, at the very periphery were some nagging thoughts waiting to get the center stage. Why didn't someone call 911 right away? To say that I was rightfully indignant at the first response she was given (or not given) is saying it mildly. But, that is just the agitated parent talking. A calmer mind like D's seemed satisfied with the care she got before we arrived.

In a situation of head injury or doubt, isn't it plain commonsense to err on the side of safety and call for transport and get the child the immediate medical attention needed rather than call the parent who might not be at arm's length to reach on time? "Do not try to judge the severity of the injury yourself." Isn't that the mantra? I guess more than once schools have been bitten by parents' responses - "Ambulance costs a fortune", "Insurance does not cover it", "We would have done the needful without the extra expenditure" - all true, sadly.

While my insides are churning and roiling right now, I find a strange sense of solace in discharging these words here. Not a blame game, not a coulda-shoulda post-mortem, but just plain release of emotional energy with the hope that the needful will be done for any child under similar circumstances.

Never take anything for granted .

A follow-up appointment on Friday is as far as I can think right now.

Children Learn What They Live

While not much is going on this summer - nothing fantastic, nothing too hectic - it seems like I am getting too  emotional thanks to visiting my family. After my last trip to India in 2009, I am seeing my parents only now... while intellectually I can understand aging, I refuse to accept it when it comes to my parents.

Anyway, my dad had sent me these words, something that he came across on the web a while back, when we were talking about what 'discipline', 'obedience', and 'respect' meant to him as a parent and how it has evolved from his generation to today's.

My dad used to say, Command respect, Don't Demand It and 'command' of course in this context equates to 'earn'.

In an unrelated note, by coincidence, I recently read Tehanu by Ursula K. Le Guin and while the book is a bit of a disappointment thanks to its morbid tones and weak plot, the writing is brilliant as always with strong social commentary. And, I was struck by a simple dialog between Ged (G as in guest, not ginger) and Tenar about Tenar's ward Therru:

"How she's changing!" she said. "I can't keep up with her. I'm old to be bringing up a child. And she . . . She obeys me, but only because she wants to."

"It's the only justification for obedience," Ged observed.

Children Learn What They Live
By Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D.

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

Continual state of inelegance

"MAMA! NAANAA TOOK MY FIE-YO TWUCK!"


"Ana took your fire truck? Do you want it back, Oggie? Well, ask her to give it back."
...  ... ...
"Ask her nicely, Oggie".



"AMMA! OGGIE IS RUINING MY PICNIC WITH ENID! MAKE HIM GO AWAY!"

"Maybe he wants to be invited to the picnic. Serve him some tea and show him how to pour without spilling."

"NO, AMMA! THIS IS ONLY FOR GIRLS. OGGIE IS NOT INVITED. HE WILL MAKE A MESS. I DON'T WANT HIM TO PLAY WITH MY TEA SET. NO, OG! DON'T TOUCH IT! AMMAAAAA!"

"Yes, Ana?"

"STOP HIM! TAKE HIM AWAY, SO I CAN PLAY!"

"Do you want him to play somewhere else and not disturb you?"

"YEAH!"

"Well, tell him that so he understands you. Maybe interest him in something else"

"Shoo, shoo, Oggie, Go away. Go look at the kitties, they are playing with your cars!"

"Where, Naanaa? Kitties are playing with my cars? NO! Let me go find them."

"Thanks, Amma. He went away."
...
...
...

AMMA!"

"MAMA...MAMA!"

"AMMA! I CALLED YOU FIRST..."


Even as I brace myself for the impending blitz, I manage to casually sip my tea in a non-drug-induced stupor, wondering if sleep-deprivation has its advantages...

Sure there were moments when a volcano seemed tamer in comparison, when I surprised myself with over-reacting, only to wilt and crumble moments later scrambling to over-compensate... I am after all only human... a human whose limits of patience and stamina are constantly pushed and stretched...

If I can query the Magic Mirror à la Snow White's stepmom Queen (did she have a name?),
"Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Who is the most Inelegant-Mom of all?",
I wouldn't be surprised at its possibly honest reflection.

Between trips to playgrounds/gardens/museum/zoo,  arts & crafts activities, hikes in park trails, reading at home/library/bookstore, indulging in board-games as much as pretend-play, not to mention plenty of free play time, the summer seems to have zipped by in  a blur... or perhaps it seems that way since the only difference between days and nights for me was that I had both the kids active and raring to go during daytime, but only Oggie still chugging along at medium-high pace at nights. Oggie, the Sleep-Is-For-Wimps poster child.

 At least Ms. Austen blamed it on summer when she said, "What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance." I have no such excuse.

Hand-Me-Down Toys

It is not until recently that I started wondering about the advantage of hand-me-downs in the development of the younger child who acquires these.

Me being a younger sibling and getting mostly hand-me-downs possibly gave me an imperceptible edge over first-borns my age... Will have to explore that topic in another post... Actually, maybe not. There are experts who have fine things to say about it, with research to back them up. So, I guess I'll stick to just my limited experiences in motherhood :)

With Ana, everything was new for me, every toy was a gamble, every experience seemed to come with the price of doubt. As is expected with the first-born. But now with Og, it seems to get a little easier, as is normal, I guess...

While it is true that their personalities are different and I am constantly learning and tailoring them to Oggie's needs, some of the staple activities for toddler development are universal enough that they have become a hit with Og.

1. Coloring seems to have a universal appeal, and so far this seems to be Oggie's favorite activity, next only to reading books.
   
   
   
   Crayons and washable markers are a staple. And thanks to Crayola™ there are so many other wonderful products to try.
   
   Crayola Beginnings Tadoodles First Marks is fun, especially for Oggie's insistent hammering technique for covering the page with bright dots while repeating "Daats! Daats!"... and so is Tadoodles Easy Stampers.
   
   Crayola Beginnings Triangular Paintbrush seems to be frustrating for him, at least the ones we have, as the flow is not smooth and continuous, but, it is good to take out the frustration by jabbing the paper.
2. Peg Puzzles & Jigsaw Puzzles: Melissa & Doug™'s wooden peg puzzles, with or without sound, is another favorite.
   
   Just as with Ana, it is fun to watch Og place the pieces in their slots, dump them out and do it all over again. And again. For about half a dozen times at a stretch somedays...
   
   Of course, whereas Ana's favorite was the animals puzzle, Oggie's seems to be the vehicles one.
   
   In addition to peg puzzles, the wooden 12-piece Jigsaw Puzzles seem to be getting Og's attention - especially the hand-me-downs from my soon-to-be-4 year old nephew - viz., the construction vehicles, locomotives and dinosaurs.
3. Foam Shapes Puzzles and Letters:
   
   Ana favors the Loctagon pieces for building structures even now at 4¾, while Og loves the Circular Foam Pieces with geometric shape cutouts.
   
   The shapes are interesting, even if a bit challenging for the wee hands to put back together. And the cutout sewing activity promises to be useful as well.
   
   
4. Mister Potato Head: D being a Transformers fan, (collected them as a kid and went to Botcon2007 before the movie was released), the first Mister Potato Head set that Ana got a couple of years ago was naturally the Transformers promo one called Opti-Mash Prime.
   
   And, of course, now that I let Ana watch the Transformers movie recently, it turns out her favorite is Bumblebee and not Optimus Prime :)
   
   Anyway, I like this toy as we can keep adding different accessories. Ana likes the Princess Potato Head with pink shoes and crown and scepter and such. Plus the Pirate, Halloween Ghost, in addition to numerous animal-ish accessories like ape, elephant etc.
   
   It is fun to add eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hat, shoes and such, even winter accessories like scarf... sometimes in the wrong places - just switch around the eyes and mouth and see how funny the face looks...
5. Melissa & Doug Alphabet Stacking Blocks: At 1¾, Og likes to knock them down more than stack them, naturally, but, since Ana loves to stack them and simulate her Pink Tower experience from school, it works out fine these days.
   
   The pictures and the letters are a bonus - and they are fairly sturdy.
   
   Plus Og likes to nest the blocks, which is sort of appropriate for his developmental age... and Ana willingly handed it over to Og explaining that it is a "baby toy" and she is done with it, naturally reserving her claim to it at all times :)
6. Little Touch Leap Pad System: Ana got this for her first birthday from her Nana. At about 2 is when she really got into it. It was always in the car, entertaining her and interacting with her during those awfully long commutes to and from daycare.
   
   At a few months away from turning two, Oggie is beginning to like this. The letters of the alphabet is his favorite now - he gets a response for his action right away when he pushes on the page - animal sounds, words, letter sounds...
   
   Between 2½ and 3½ this book was one of Ana's constant companions. We bought more books for this as she mastered each. Her favorite (and mine) was the Stella Songbird book - it introduced her to music from around the world - Irish, Indian, Chinese, Nigerian, Mexican, and American (mostly Jazz). Optional activity was to identify the musical instruments and their sounds. Each page had recognizable landmarks from that part of the world. She learnt about Tabla and Dragon Drums, Taj Mahal and The Great Wall of China, Dragon Puppet and Iguana through this.
   
   Lulu the Letter-spinning Spider, One Bear in the Bedroom, Rainbow Fish were some of her other favorites.
   
   Oggie so far favors the Pooh Loves You! book for this Leap Pad system.
   
   I have some reservations and opinions about electronics for kids - especially those claiming to educate or jump-start and all that... but, as far as this Little Touch Leap Pad, I have nothing much to complain. It serves its purpose and serves it well.
   
7. Blocks, blocks, blocks: Be it Lego™ Duplo or Mega Blocks or Bristle Blocks, these are quite handy toys to have around the house. Robot, doggie, airplane, car... Appa is the guy to amaze the kids with these. I can stack them up and build castles at the most :)

Toddler Fire truck, tricycle/rocking horse, hopping ball, easel/chalkboard... they all have their appeal thankfully.

As with Ana, I set out only 3 or 4 toys/activities handy and then switch them out every other week or so for Og. After a couple of months in hiding, when an old toy comes out, it gets discovered in whole new ways not thought of before...

Whereas Ana didn't spend too much time on Dropping-Things-In-A-Box (Fill-and-Spill) then dumping them out and dropping them in again, Oggie has spent a lot of time between 12 months and 18 months doing this activity.

To keep it fresh and a bit challenging, I started improvising on the home-made toy: Empty baby wipes containers seemed to work well.

Little animal toys, crayons, baby spoons/forks - anything small enough to fit and big enough to not be easily swallowed worked fine for this activity.

It was nice to park him on the kitchen floor while I cooked, let him drop the little toys into the box through the slot, one by one, and then bring it to me asking me to dump them all out so he can start over again :)

As Oggie gets older, it might not be easy to automatically hand down Ana's toys as she seems into dollies and costumes and artsy stuff... but, what are nephews for? Og has been wearing my nephew's (Oggie's maternal cousin) hand-me-down clothes right from birth and I wouldn't have it any other way. And, almost all the boy toys so far for Og are the ones my nephew got tired of...

Hand-me-downs make the world go around!

Proper Exam

While I did laugh heartily at the statement in Terry Pratchett's novel, Thief of Time, I also had to stop and think.

I guess in lieu of a proper exam, it is good to conduct periodic self-examinations...

Launched back into orbit...

With the course set for flying the two-man spaceship solo for now, all I am hoping is to sit tight till the navigator arrives.

Thanks to the slightly short 4-day week, we survived the This is Reality, Suck It Up and Get Used To It! ride so far.

The buzz of activity stirred up in our beehive on Tuesday is slowly mellowing down with the promise of an unhurried weekend.

Yep! We are back to the Eternal Rush...

1. Bee-bee-bee-beeeep! Bee-bee-bee-beeeep! Wake up to the alarm after a few unfriendly bonks on the snooze button


2. Turn the chantbox on and start some green tea brewing in the coffee pot


3. Prepare and pack Ana's lunch and Oggie's daycare stuff


4. Tousle slumbering Ana's curly mop and jiggle her little piggies


5. Take a quick shower and all the usual morning shoucham † rituals before Oggie's demands become unignorable (Yeah, it is a word. Since When? Well, Since Now!)


6. Send Ana off to pee and brush teeth


7. Luxuriate briefly in Kunjeli's charms while getting him changed and ready


8. Assist Ana with her back-buttons and things as needed, make sure she is ready


9. Strap the Kunjeli in his high-chair, park Ana in her dining chair, leave them with breakfast


10. Throw some decent clothes on, fix hair and face, frown at the sorry figure staring back from the mirror suppressing the mounting irritation at the impatient screams from the dining room


11. Make sure kitties have enough water, food for the day and a fairly clean litterbox


12. Get the tea and some leftovers ready-to-go for myself


13. Clean Oggie up as best as possible after breakfast, get his shoes on


14. Strap the kids and load the kids' bags in the car


15. Grab my purse, keys, cell phone, coffee mug, lunch pack and things


16. Drive a shortish 3 miles in one direction, drop Ana off, sad and weeping


17. Gather the broken pieces of the heart and Og, drive a good 6 miles in the other direction, drop Og off - sneaking out like a sleazy low-life when he eagerly runs ahead to grab his favorite book and rush back to me in his classroom, not wanting to get the heart pulverized again


18. Continue onwards another 7 miles to get to my work, finding strength from chanting along with Sowmya on the stereo NripathiGrihagathaanaam Dhasyubhistrasitaanaam;Tvamasi Sharanameka Devi Durge Praseeda...‡


19. Cringe at having to pay 6$ parking every day


20. Dust off crumbs and sticky mess from hair and person, blot the oily T-Zone - it's okay to look so beaten at the end of the office day, not the start


21. Take a deep breath and switch on the charismatic work persona


22. Stride gingerly towards the office, trying to remember where I left off yesterday


23. Put the phone on Vibrate, walk in with a smile, greet the colleagues and bury myself in Work, hoping the cell phone doesn't sizzle on my desk with a message from daycare or school...


24. Spend the next several hours doing some cerebral gymnastics


25. Grab the handbag, take leave, step out of office, put cell back on Loud ring, head back to the car, brushing off the looming What's for dinner? question


26. Drive 7 miles, get Og, another 6 miles, get Ana, another 3 miles...


27. ...Pull into the garage, try not to explode when Ana and Og have a 1000 demands even before I shut the garage door and plonk the purse by the door and take the shoes off...


28. Throw some water on the face and allow the seasoned cook to puppeteer the exhausted frame, rummaging through cupboards and artfully balancing the nutrition ledger


29. Assist Og with the floor puzzle or Leap Pad or whatever else he fancies at the moment and constantly catch myself reminding Ana not to grab his toys from him when he is playing with it, while keeping an eye on the meal


30. Feel guilty about sidelining Ana while going about the mechanics of putting food on the table believing that she can take care of herself


31. Catch her faraway look by the patio door and watch the melancholic mood settling in like a fog


32. Serve dinner and try to get Ana excited about D's return while ignoring Oggie's version of imbibing nourishment


33. Get the bath ready, plonk the kids in there, then lick the kids' plates clean sitting on the toilet lid afraid to take my eyes off Og in the tub for more than 2 minutes at a stretch... Yeah, gross. I know. I am not hoping to make a habit out of it, but Safety First


34. Take Og away, drain the tub, sending Ana off to get herself ready for bed and pick out books she wants to read


35. Get the overnight diaper and jammies on Og, cuddle and settle him down with his lullaby hoping he won't scream his lungs off when I go check on Ana's teeth-brushing-and-peeing-before-bed ritual


36. Somehow pull off the settle-the-kids-and-tuck-them-in-bed routine so I can get on with wrapping up the nightly duties, promising to cuddle next to Ana when I am ready for bed


37. Feed the kitties, clean out their litter box, take the ever-full Akshaya Paathram * of a kitchen compost bin out to the Earth Machine in the backyard so the pesky little Drosophila melanogaster won't multiply exponentially and drive me crazy


38. Take care of dishes as needed, check that backdoor is locked, go out the front and get the mail, lock front door; think about cleaning Og's dining mat spread on the floor which faithfully caught some of the hurled particles - what's the point? it's going to get dirty again tomorrow... and try hard to ignore Og's screams for a bit after sneaking in to make sure he is fine


39. Pick up Ana and put her next to me as promised so we cuddle together - a mutually satisfactory arrangement till Appa comes back


40. Get in bed and hope that Oggie sleeps through the night and that his cold is only temporary and that... snore... snore... Bee-bee-bee-beeeep! Bee-bee-bee-beeeep!

† Cleanliness
‡ from Durga Aapad Uddharana Stotram
* Akshaya = inexhaustible, paathram = vessel in Sanskrit; Mythological vessel that gets automatically refilled when it bottoms out

As if this cushy joy-ride wasn't fulfilling enough, I panicked about some brown crusty stuff in Oggie's ear yesterday morning. Not able to determine if it was just wax or dried blood or a combination of both^♥, and worried about sticking a Q-tip in his ear and aggravating anything, I managed to set up a doctor appointment - the last one available for that day - and stop by there - somewhere after Step 26 and before Step 27 above.
^♥: He scratched inside his ear, broke skin a bit, bled a bit in sleep is the doctor's best guess... nothing terrible inside the ear except the signs of cold thankfully

Oh, and, the smug feeling about filling the tank before the start of the week lasted about 3 days when the dial rapidly started leaning towards Empty...

Also, the bathroom drain plug isn't working as it should...

And, little miss I-need-it-really-clean managed to toss in about half a jumbo TP roll after wiping the poopy bottom, and tried to flush it, thereby flooding the toilet... thank the stars The Plunger is Amma's good friend.

Plus, kitties have taken to messing where they shouldn't - their way of missing D, I presume.

Just realized I wrote checks that I can't cover as I wasn't working for the last 2+ months so nothing direct-deposited into my Checking, and I don't have the checkbook for the joint account.

Did I mention that promptly Monday night, the day before we were getting back to our routine, my migraine decided to visit and stayed with me for a delightful 3-day sojourn till this morning?

All this would have been tougher if Ana wasn't such a seasoned helper...

Call me the weaker sex if you wish, laugh at my ineptitude if you will, but, I admit, I am breaking down and ardently wishing D was here and I didn't have to deal with everything.

And, as I am typing away the niggly little details here, the single neuron still firing in my brain points out: Hey, you were doing 7/9ths of the stuff listed above even when D was here, so what's the big deal?

One and a half

When you indicate
Milk
More
All Gone
Where is it?
Eat
in sign language, gesturing confidently with your baby hands, I automatically fill your need without stopping to marvel, even if briefly, at your burgeoning communication skills.

When you confidently point out
Duck
Kitty
Doggie
Cow
Sheep
Goat
Pig
Horse
Donkey
Bee
Mouse
Bird
Bunny
Squirrel
and make their respective animal noises, I just nod along and not make a big deal about it these days, not even stopping to think what sort of abstraction and refinement must've happened to distinguish between Horse/Donkey in that fledgling mind of yours.

Why should I? After all, we have moved on to the less vocal Ant, Ladybug, Spider, Cricket, Firefly, Dragonfly and of course Butterfly already...

And, in response to my query, when you correctly identify
Lion
Zebra
Gorilla
Monkey
Snake
Bear
Elephant
Warthog
Beaver
Tiger
Panda
Fox
with the chest-beating always accompanying the Gorilla, I hurriedly acknowledge with a Yeah, that's right, Gorilla... mhmm... That's the Lion! Right you are! while moving on to the next, forgetting the fact that I was in primary school before I learnt about half these animals you so easily recognize already.

After just a few days of animatedly pointing and repeating
Circle
Square
Triangle
Rectangle
Oval
Diamond
Star
Heart
you seemed to know the common shapes like the palm of your hand (which you incidentally point to every time I ask, along with a few other body parts, in Tamil and English), identifying/recognizing them in different books/scenarios... so I quietly moved on to introducing colors, promising to return to hexagon and octagon and possibly the controversial trapezoid in a few months.

I flippantly utter short-and-snappy commands
Sit
Step
Bath
Lie Down
Shoes On
Shirt Off
Pants Off
Wash Hands
Change Diaper
to keep it simple these days, confident that you would understand and come along for the respective enterprise. I fail to pause and appreciate how much of processing you have done on your own to get to this state of ease.

You seem to have picked up on the fact that you have a nice role-model in your sister.

You sit down to color and scribble whenever she sits down for one of her coloring sessions or art projects without any nudge from me.

You shuffle your jig-saw pieces about when you see your sister doing one of her challenging ones.

You perform your half-squat and high-march while banging on some imaginary bongos as you try to match your sister's dance moves whenever there is music streaming around.

And, what can I say about your affinity for books? When I can't sit with you to read, you just pick your current favorite and settle yourself down, sounding out loud gibberish, turning pages appropriately, seemingly appreciating it all as much as your tender mind allows.

On rare occasions that you are allowed in her room, you make a bee-line for Ana's bookshelf completely oblivious to all her toys within easy reach. And when we go to drop Ana off in her school, you survey the room teeming with activity but quietly follow your sister to the reading loft, park yourself on the little sofa with a book, allowing me to focus on the hug-and-kiss-goodbye ritual.

While my secret wish is for you and your sister to inherit my love of books, it will be just fine if you choose not to. No pressure.

You had just turned one when you exploded with a lot of the magical feats above but I never did bring myself to do updates about you... yeah, you have a lazy Amma!

Well, not so much lazy as time-challenged, shall we say? So much happens with you each week that it is quite an adventure just keeping up, let alone write it all down.

Besides, there is always this nagging thought that being the second child somehow makes it easier for you to do it all faster and earlier than my expectations manage to set them up for you. There is probably some truth to this. But, I can't let it take away your effort and your perseverance at constantly demonstrating your developmental triumphs.


Yeah, sure, babies are built to adapt, wired to learn the intricacies of their environment, absorb like a sponge as they make sense of the chatter they hear and somehow find their place in this world and make a mark in it as they mature... and do it all at what seems like a breakneck pace in the Universe's framework while staying unbelievably resilient - a survival skill, an instinct so primitive and crucial that it warrants no mention.

It is easier to convince myself that all-6-month-olds do this, all one-year-olds do this, all-18-month-olds do this... while tucking away how special it makes me feel when you do it, when you surprise me day-in and day-out with your capacity to absorb and distill the essentials of this complicated world with minimal help from your ever-busy Amma.

Is it some sense of self-righteous modesty that deliberately spotlights the challenges and anxieties while relegating the triumphs and jubilation to the dinghy backstage of the mind?

Is it my grounded upbringing that struggles to exult in the seraphic moments, knowing all-too-well about being fallible, being human, dismissing the enchanting qualities in my kids with the age-old belief summed up by Hume: Beauty is no quality in things themselves: it exists merely in the mind which contemplates them...

I imagine it would feel safer to not add the burden of my contemplation to your growing pains, to feel no compulsion to announce your charisma... the world will see you with its own eyes and believe what it wants and that is just fine by me.

And, as you both grow older, I suspect I will continue to play down your best qualities, afraid that projecting my awe on your innate personality would mar it somehow and not leave it as pristine as only the maternal mind can perpetuate it... I suspect I will inadvertently focus on the not-so-ideal and the less-than-perfect moments in a spurious effort to set-things-right when there is nothing wrong per se... Heck, I am already catching myself doing that with your sister!

No Matter.

You will be turning all of one and a half soon.

While part of my mind races with the upcoming challenges of potty-training, reading, writing and such trivialities, the rest of it feels strangely reassured that in the larger scheme of things, you will teach yourself everything you need, drawing inspiration from wherever you find it, and excelling in everything you set your mind to... while I sit back, humbled, fervently hoping that I remain a big part of that evolution.

Could they be sensing the lacuna?

Since we got back, Ana seems to be having dreams that make her sad. On and off. Not every night, thankfully.

Tonight, about half hour after she fell asleep she started to bawl, almost wail. And when asked what's wrong, she simply said she had a sad dream. I asked her what was in her dream. She was vague about it. Understandably. I know sometimes I wake up with a terrible melancholy gripping me not really knowing what caused it... and sometimes I wake up with my heart pounding but can't remember what scared me either.

I tried to hold her, rock her and talk about her feelings.

Now, I know kids her age have nightmares and such. It is part of the developmental process. But, it seems rather frequent and sudden for my comfort ever since we got back from India.

Now, I am not one for making sweeping generalizations. But, I am trained to hypothesize based on empirical evidence. So, I am typing away, late at night, with Cary Elwes for company trying to crack me up with his Robinhood, wondering if the kids are somehow missing their dad more than I can fathom...

How are they processing D's temporary absence? Is the lacuna too large for them to take in stride?

It just feels a little scary to see the usually sunny and sweet Ana all shook up and sad...

---

p.s: Gauri's words rang so true in her note to me that I had to share here:

Sometimes we don't give kids due respect - in the sense that we feel that they are too young to be processing things that "we feel" are beyond them. But truth be told, kids are extremely perceptive - at times, I would venture as far as to say that they are a lot more perceptive than us adults. Probably vocalising it becomes difficult for them because they are not able to express themselves through language as effectively as adults.

Thanks for taking the time, Gauri, and thanks to Blogger for failing so I could get this personal note from you :)

I so agree with you, Gauri, about kids being very perceptive... Ana has always been sensitive to changes.

She is very aware and seems to understand and process the fact that Appa is far away to touch and hug, but, never too far away to see and talk to - thanks to video chat.

But, how she emotionally deals with the constant physical distance/absence for nearly 3 months now is a mystery for me. Like you said, I have the vocabulary to express it and get it out of my system but she doesn't yet have it...

---

Meanwhile, picking plums and pears, running in the backyard, making caterpillar art, rediscovering her old block puzzles, coloring and doodling, and singing songs we make up should all be for the good as she initiates and sustains the activities on her own with very little nudgefrom me...

Strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart...

A mother's work is never done...

Kids will be kids.

And along the way, they give meaning to their mother's life - an immeasurable sense of fulfillment that only compounds as they get older.

Meanwhile, the mother discovers new reserves of strength, patience, and courage driven by her fierce need to foster and defend her cubs...

I know, I know... it is l-a-t-e for me. Ana and Og are in bed. But, my mind is rewinding and playing back little accidents in the last few days since we got home... Ana being a baby herself doesn't realize when she is playing rough with Oggie and accidents seem to be happening all at once these past few days. Mostly, these accidents seem to happen when my x-ray vision fails to kick in - when I am in the kitchen getting a meal ready, or in the bathroom getting the job done as fast as possible...

Being on guard at all times is draining me fast...

But, such is the price of parenthood whether we like it or not, and we scoop it by the handfuls, smiling, begging for more.

Learning not to panic when seeing blood should be a required training for mommies. Blood oozing from their children, I mean... we all know mommies are worse than zombies and can drag themselves up from the depths of nowhere for their kids.

I admit I fall apart just a bit when I see Ana or Og really hurt, physically hurt - just the first few minutes when the stunned mind races to make sense of how it happened and exactly what happened... Usually, a sensible part of my brain somehow directs my limbs to get ice and place it carefully, apply pressure and stop bleeding, check eyes for uncharacteristic dilation, reach for the neosporin, fill out the right dosage of Ibuprofen at the sight of inflammation, and even give some arnica or bella donna as needed...

But somehow, I fear that presence of mind might desert me and I might do the wrong thing and jeopardize their safety by not giving proper first aid.

Oggie fell hard the other day and cut his lip with his teeth bleeding all over his chin and shirt. Ana started trembling. She just happened to trip him. By accident, I am sure. And today, he hurt the back of his head on a sharp corner and has a ½ cm gash on the back of his head. All that blood got me so terrified. Possibly because it happened on my watch, when I am alone and solely responsible for the kids' safety. Ana had too much energy and she didn't back off when I asked her to, riling Oggie up enough for it to get to unsafe levels...

I know, I know... I also grew up with a sibling and things are not going to be sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice all the time, but, under no circumstances should a mother be expected to remain collected, cool and smiling when she sees her kid spurting blood.

So, I naturally reprimanded Ana right away for not heeding my words and allowing for this to happen. I hope I caught myself just in time before my words could inflict a sense of guilt in her tender mind. As I went about trying to administer first aid as best as my muddled mind allowed, I remained oblivious to my poor little darling. Catching her pale and quivering little body, I managed to calm down soon enough to assure her that I knew she didn't mean for Oggie to get hurt, and that I am not mad at her and that there are no consequences to worry about, and that I would be shattered if she got hurt again like she did before... but, she can try to help make Oggie feel better by distracting him while I hold the ice against his head.

At this point, CS, if you are reading this, thank you so much for your call - for letting me know I don't have to feel alone, and that I can call upon your generosity 24/7 till D gets back. You know I am not a phone person, not because I am impersonal, I prefer face-to-face... I've had many sour experiences with words on the phone taken out-of-context and misinterpreted as the other person could not see my face when I said it, so I've shied away from phone chats with people who haven't had a chance to know me intimately...

I bow low before the mighty moms who tackle their kids 24/7, keep them owwie-free, present nutritious meals, find stimulating activities and remain calm and collected at all times. They must be truly gifted.

Haunting the Bloomington Park and Memory Garden is all we do for outings these days... surprisingly, kids just seem so happy and comfortable staying home, rediscovering their bookshelves and toys, and all that space, that I don't feel the need to drag them places just to prove I can *do* stuff with them all the time...

Ana has been to the Children's Museum a few times in the past, she enjoys it, but, at this juncture, finding herself back in her lair, given a choice between staying home and keeping herself happy and heading out to the Zoo/Museum/<insert stereotypical kid's :fun: place>, she has consistently voted for staying home. And that just suits me fine as I know when D gets back, being an outdoors person, it could be his bonding ritual with the kids - *if* he can spare the time...

Am rambling, aren't I? Time to hit the sack, I suppose... But, these few lines, which I remember repeating in school when I was young, kept ringing in my head for some reason and urged me to ask for strength and grace as I grow with my children in this lifetime:

This is my prayer to thee, my Lord -- strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.

And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.

--From the Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore

Bye, Bye Magic Mirror...

Appa is Here!


The first ten days or so since our arrival in Madras, D was on webcam from Portland every day, coming up with silly things that would make Ana giggle gleefully. One such silly thing was to claim that he has a goat in his tummy. When Ana challenges this, he would come very close to the webcam with his mouth open as Ana knows that's the way to the tummy, and then, when he was close enough he would quickly thrust a picture of a goat in front of the webcam as he moved out of the way, thus convincing her that there is a goat (more precisely, a goat picture) inside his tummy. Precious!

As Ana was high on travel excitement and associated novelty she didn't really show any signs of separation anguish then.

However, as we hopped from town to town, spending days at a stretch where we couldn't do the webcam, she struggled with uprootment issues and started bawling uncontrollably (sometimes for about an hour at a stretch), repeating the same set of phrases, drawing from the stories we've been reading every night, almost as if afraid to say anything different as it would not convey her exact feelings to me.

"Amma, I am very sad because I miss my Appa"
"Amma, I want to be in Portland with Appa"
"Amma, I want a Magic Mirror like Beast gave Beauty so I could see my Appa"
"Amma, I prayed to Vishnu for one wish to see my Appa now 'coz I miss my Appa"

The heartrending cries every night for the last four of the six weeks here has somehow melted the Divine Planner's heart enough to arrange for D to be with us here!

This was such a remote possibility that I never encouraged any hope. I kept reassuring Ana that we will see Appa when we get back to Portland, and that he misses her terribly too... and I had asked him to call us on the phone as often as he can...

But, every day, I was crumbling internally, cursing myself for traumatizing her so.

I am sure Oggie missed his dad in his own way, but, he seemed to manage fine with all the attention he has been getting everywhere.

When D confirmed his arrival a couple of weeks ago, we decided to keep it a secret as we both were dying to see Ana's surprise and happiness when she came face-to-face with her Appa who is supposed to be waiting in Portland for us to come back.

Ana was speechless!

All she managed was a tremulous "Appa!" filled with disbelief.

She clung to him the whole ride home with the widest dimpled animated smile I have ever seen on her face.

Now, D's arrival has changed the dynamics of our trip a bit. He is on an official visit, so he cannot stay with us or go back with us, and has to work every day. Plus, he won't arrive until a few weeks after we reach Portland.

But, for now, Ana's rapturous elation is highly infectious and I am thanking the Gods for hearing her doleful wails and alleviating her distress.

Through the Sugar Cane Machine...

Sometimes I feel Guilt sustains me as a mom... why else would I start feeling terrible about everything despite seeing all the good that has come out of it, despite knowing that the good always outweighs the not-so-good, no matter how I do the math?

I feel like I have put Ana through the old-fashioned sugar cane juice machine, squeezing the sweet cheer out of her, leaving her crushed and exhausted.

This long trip we have been on since arrival in Madras 6 weeks ago, hopping from town to town visiting family and such, has been quite harrowing on the one hand, but, quite rewarding nonetheless. Ana and Oggie have been enveloped in love and affection from grandparents, grand-aunts and grand-uncles, aunts and uncles, all willing to shower attention on them, making their short time together pretty memorable.

But, all through the trip, I couldn't shake off this anger and guilt about being harsh on Ana more than I have ever been so far in her tender life. Now, agreed, it was all based on maintaining safety of the kids as well as ensuring "ideal" behavior from Ana, but, all that harshness has left me feeling like the worst mom on Earth, now that we are back at the nest and recuperating in Madras.

The guilt is inevitable because Ana is inherently a sweet kid, no real destructive tendencies in her, but, she was surrounded by grown-ups (including me) who have forgotten how they were as a kid, and are out-of-touch with how to relate to a kid her age, and who couldn't arrange activities that would appeal to her, so much so that she felt bored and had only Oggie to take out her frustration on.

And, Oggie being of the right age and personality to command and hog everyone's attention did not help her one bit. Probably just aggravated her more. The fault is mine for just throwing her in the water and asking her to learn to swim on her own, but, it was all well-intentioned as I completely trust my family to take care of her needs easily and happily.

No, no, don't get me wrong, this is not a judgment on anybody, not at all - it is just my ramblings now that I have the luxury to type away... It is my responsibility to keep Ana and Og entertained, but, I was too preoccupied catching up with family, dying to chat away in Tamil and go out to temples and such that I left poor Ana to her own devices.

Well, truth be told, she had quite a few activities books and story books to keep her occupied, her grand-aunt and grandma are wonderful story-tellers who willingly told her lovely tales from Mythology, and we did work on things together whenever I could get myself to do it.

I just could not give her the undivided attention she demanded from me all the time. And that is what is gnawing at my vitals now. C'est la vie, I suppose...

But, since Og was quite fine with all the attention people gave him, and interacted freely with all, I assumed Ana would do the same and adapt to the available resources, freeing me up for a bit... that's where I was wrong.

Displaced from her familiar surroundings, thrown into scorching heat with no real respite, and to quote, "no good rooms to play in India" as she kept complaining, missing her dad terribly, so terribly that she bawled pathetically every night repeating, "I want to be in Portland with Appa", I bet life has not been easy for Ana.

Every house we visited here was different, with its own idiosyncrasies and rules and systems which made her dependent on me for every little thing from getting a drink of water to using the toilet... and me, callous old selfish me, pushing her to ask her grand-aunt or grandma for what she wants and not proactively jumping to her needs, becoming terribly volatile when she acted out, the volatility stemming not from her actual uncharacteristic act, but from the fact that she is proving me wrong about what a sweet child she has been so far in her own environment...

I didn't expect language to be such a barrier - with everybody speaking English, Ana still had to process the local English as a separate language and she gave up after the first few days. She tuned everybody out, her ears receiving only my personal frequency.

Oggie will probably not remember much, but he is growing faster than I can keep up, amusing and entertaining all with his new tricks and baby-antics.

Ana will surely remember the A/c sleeper train travels, the local parks and attractions, and of course watching Little Krishna and Tom & Jerry till her eyes bubbled, living in a culture so different from what she is used to since birth, listening to stories of Rama, Krishna, Ganesha and Shiva, perhaps even slowly adapting and liking her Indian side. She will hopefully forgive and forget her mommy for expecting her to be ladylike and be the perfect little angel she is in her own environment back in PDX.

She is a good kid, she did not get into others' cupboards and pull everything out and break anything despite her frustration and boredom. She just resorted to pushing Oggie, taking away and hiding Oggie's security toy without which he struggles to fall asleep, picking him up and dropping him to the floor, shutting the door on him - there were many close calls - concussions and finger-crushings were just barely escaped - and, these were the main times I have had to be hard-heartedly harsh on Ana. Safety is not to be taken lightly, in my mind... agreed there will always be the inevitable, the accident, but, I prefer they remain rare as they should be rather than sit back carelessly and watch.

Sigh!

Would it have been better to send her to some blasé Summer Camp and skipped this trip to India? My heart emphatically screams a loud NO.

And, D reassures me by being fully supportive of my effort to cultivate their Indian roots. Gluing cotton balls, stringing beads, identifying moth caterpillars, reading and writing can all be saved for the school year... the richness of this experience, at this age, with all the digital pictures and videos of her visit is sure to leave a positive impact on her.

For now, I have vowed to make up for the harshness so far, reserving the strong reprimands for the times when she is still very rough with Og... I have no problem letting her watch Chota Bheem and Dora, knowing full-well that when we are back in Portland none of these are available and she will probably be so saturated that she won't care for more... plus she will be busy learning cool stuff at school that she will be quite happy being productive.



*Image taken from google image results for sugar cane juice machine

If don't say it enough, my Honey Pot...

You amaze me!

In the morning rush, packing lunch for you, Appa & me, and supplies for Oggie's daycare, feeding changing and getting Oggie ready for school, taking a quick shower and hastily throwing on some clothes and a presentable appearance, making sure you eat your breakfast and are ready to be strapped in the car seat for the ride to school, I seem to take for granted how independent and efficient you are in your own way.

I register in passing how you wake up happy to see your family most days (I know, you are just a baby too and you have your bad days), you rush to empty your bladder and brush your teeth with very little coaxing, and sit on your favorite seat at the dining table patiently waiting for me to set out the cup of warm milk, a stirring spoon, and the jar of Ovaltine so you could relish the experience of make your own coffee juice.

When you pick up your empty cup and set it by the kitchen sink for me to wash, my eye is on the oven clock while my mind is listing the endless tasks that need to happen before we leave that morning so I fail to tell you how much I appreciate your little gesture. Instead, I barely hold back my drill-sergeant tone asking you to go get dressed.

As you head out to your room to pick out your clothes, right from panties and tights to tops and skirt, I settle Oggie down with his morning bottle and jump in the shower.

Sneaking a look at your slow progress when I get out of the 3-minute shower (which includes washing hair), I suppress the urge to ask you to hurry up.

You seem to have a method to your madness: you emerge confidently exclaiming, "Amma, look! I am wearing purple tights because it matches my purple skirt and I am wearing this pink shirt because I like the pink Strawberry Shortcake on my shirt... I am wearing full sleeves so I won't be cold, see, Amma?" all in one breath. But this time, I do manage to compliment you, even pick you up and plant a kiss before you wriggle out of my tight embrace.

As you chatter away at the table after choosing a breakfast from the choice of two I offer that morning and eat a few spoonfuls to satisfy me, I miss the opportunity to tell you how wonderful it feels to have you comply on certain mornings, making the day already quite cheerful for me - I do wish we can do away with the other days when you protest so vehemently about breakfast...

In the middle of all this excitement, when little Oggie screams, clearly unhappy that his bottle turned out just shy of how much he wanted to drink, you surprise me by running and fetching his pacifier and putting it in his mouth to, well, pacify him right away. And it works!

While I try to make myself presentable, I smile quietly hearing you chatter away with Appa, using the full extent of your charm to have him take you to school that morning, which he very gently yet firmly dismisses with the trusted Distract-and-Divert tactics.

"Amma, wait for me! I am not ready to go to school yet! I am going to wear my ballerina shoes today and my magenta coat", you blurt out scrambling worriedly so as not to be left behind when you see me don my coat, grab my keys and cell phone, pick up my purse, put on my work shoes, and kiss Oggie as Appa whisks him away to deliver him at daycare.

On our drive to school, my Honey Pot, I admit I mechanically respond to your jabber sometimes while my attention is split between NPR on the radio, the traffic flow around us, the tasks I need to get done at work that day to meet deadlines, errands I might have to run on the way home... vowing silently to make it up to you when we get home in the evening.

I try not to dwell on not having acknowledged your competence and independence enough that morning. While I do not believe in lauding every dainty little sneeze of yours, I do wish I have the sense to appreciate you when you amaze me, truly amaze me, which you do - a lot by the way.

I treasure the dash from the parking lot to the school door that we do every morning, just to get you excited about spending the day in school. I watch you hang up your coat on your allotted hook and set your lunch bag in your allotted spot, then prance merrily ahead to wash your hands before you get into the classroom - a very good habit your teachers set up, I am glad to note.

Knowing that parting time is near, you allow me to pick you up, hold you, hug you, kiss you, cuddle you and tickle you so I can walk away seeing your happy face - an image I carry in my head throughout the work day... promising to come and get you in the evening, as usual.

On my way to pick you up in the evening, I remind myself over and over not to let my exhaustion and stress from work carry over to you.

Strapping you in your car seat and heading towards Oggie's daycare, we talk about your day in school... sometimes you are very forthcoming, amazing me with your vocabulary, observation, and narration skills, sharing the wonders you discovered in school that day; and some days you tell me in no uncertain terms to leave you alone, extracting a promise from me to let you watch your favorite DVD when we get home.

Your exuberance at seeing Oggie with his little friends in his daycare transfers over to him easily. As we three ride home, I try to push aside thoughts of dinner and how to make the best of the evening before we all get in bed.

I do wish I could read your mind and your mood better to make you the dinner you'd relish, but, you are very reasonable when I ask you to try 5 bites of the bean soup or vegetable rice or quesadilla or whatever else I manage to put in front of you, while I try to dodge Oggie's swatting hands to sneak in spoonfuls of avacado or buttered rice & veggies I decide to feed him hoping to make every spoonful count.

Bath times, my Honey Pot, are my favorite. Watching you and Oggie in the bathtub, playing and splashing, and occasionally fighting over the same bath toy, is exactly what the doctors should prescribe for mommies to decompress.

Getting you both ready for bed - brushed teeth, potty/diaper, and warm jammies - might seem like a tightrope walk at times with both of you being cranky and demanding at the end of your long and exhausting day, but we manage....

As you pick out the books you want me to read to you, with Oggie being a silent and willing spectator at times, I fight the drowsiness and force my eyes to stay open and my cheer to remain undiminished...

When Oggie is cranky and I try to rock him in the middle of reading to you in bed, you amaze me by singing "Rock-a-bye Baby" ever so softly urging Oggie to close his eyes and get some rest so Amma can finish reading the book. Precious. Simply Precious.

After tucking you both in bed and hovering around finishing up the kitchen chores and getting things ready for next morning, I give in to my tiredness and decide not wait for Appa to come home before I retire to read a few pages in bed and let sleep overcome me, knowing full well that within a couple of hours Oggie will lure me to his side with his nightly wails...

I check in on you one last time, barely pushing aside thoughts of how better I could have handled certain situations that day with you where I almost lost my temper, for no real fault of yours except being a 3-year old, hoping that your big heart will forgive and forget and give me another chance, every day, to show you how wonderful you make me feel and how much I cherish you...

Weekends are a whole different game, my little Honey Pot, and am glad we have those two whole days to bond and get to know each other better... soon you'll have your own set of friends you'd want to hang out with on evenings and weekends, and there'd probably be very little you'd acknowledge having in common with me... I just hope I am using all this precious time together establishing our intimate connection that is both a miracle and a blessing I could never have dreamed of half-a-dozen years ago...