If I haven't said much about Y lately,

it's not as though there's nothing to say; but my kids are at that stage where Ads says a lot of weird/funny/silly things and those tend to stick with me. Y is still very much a do-er and chronicling her activities takes more effort. She communicates whatever she needs to, reasonably well, through gestures and the limited number of words at her disposal. She is nowhere as verbal as Ads was at the same age (17 months) - probably all her energy goes in running, kicking, shouting and generally being the tomboy of the house. 

So what has Y been upto? She has been growing taller. She seems to have put on some weight after coming to Delhi. I haven't actually measured her but it definitely looks like she is "healthier". She loves to dance. She loves to dress up. She loves to sit down with me when I am massaging cream on my face, and mimic my actions. She has lost most of her stranger anxiety. She loves to be involved in Ads' games, whether or not she understands what is happening. She loves to go down to the playground every evening and never wants to come back home (her brother, on the other hand, is ready to get back inside the house after a mere half-hour of play!) Her favourite seat is on her brother's lap, facing him. Whether on a chair at home or in the car, that's where she loves to be.

She is a vibrant bundle of energy. And oh my, the tantrums already when she doesn't get what she wants!!! I'm pretty sure the terrible twos have started already.

"Amma I don't like you at all...

But I love you soooo much!"

My son says this several times a day, to me, to his father, and to his sister. When my mother was here, he  used to include her also in this cute expression.

Where do they come up with these things??

Ad-lib #4

Ads has developed a disease of smelling his fingers. And what's more, I hear a running commentary on what he is smelling. He also quite unnecessarily asks me whether he can do it, after he has done it! Some examples:

I washed my hands and smelt my hand. Can I do it?

I touched Y's face and smelt my hand. Can I do it?

I touched my feet and smelt my hand. Can I do it?

I digged (dug) my nose and smelt my hand. Can I do it?

...............and several more unsavoury instances of having touched other parts of his body and thereafter smelt his hands :(

Both Ads and Y have also developed the habit of hitting themselves. It's a big game with them. One starts by banging his/her head with his/her hand and shouting "Adi!!" (Hit). The other follows suit and each one hits himself or herself, the whole macabre game accompanied by much laughing, mostly at my annoyed expression I suppose.

A random incident

The school allowed me to escort Ads right into his classroom for the first 2 days. On Day 3, the security guy standing at the entrance to the Primary Block accosted me and asked me to leave Ads right there. I said he was a new student. The security guy said "Theek hai, magar kal se aap ise yahin par chhod dena". Okie-dokey, I said. 

The next day, we reach the Primary Block and I say my goodbyes to Ads. He trots off and stands next to the guard. He looks up at him, looks down again, and hesitantly reaches out his hand. It takes the guard a second to figure out what's happening. He takes Ads' hand in his, somewhat bemusedly. Most of the other kids just walk in confidently and I suppose he's rarely ever had to take some kid by the hand and escort them to class.

That instant, when Ads placed his hand in the guard's, trusting him to take him to a safe haven, has been captured as a precious image to be stored forever in my memory. Unexpected tears pricked my eyes and I was glad I was wearing my sunglasses. I don't know why that moment should have moved me so much, but then all the emotions associated with parenthood are a great mystery.

The older I get and the more experiences I have with my children, the more I understand some of the choices and decisions that my parents made, and the things they said and the feelings they felt.

A new beginning in a new school

Butterflies in my stomach. That sinking feeling of wanting to throw up. A dull heavy ache in my heart. These are the uncomfortable sensations I have been carrying around inside me for the last week. All because, come the 5th of April, Ads starts a new school year in a new unfamiliar school. 

I visited the school twice to purchase the regulation uniforms and books. I labelled his backpack, read the circulars several times and kept hammering into Ads' head that his new session was approaching. In the midst of all the hectic unpacking, purchasing and "settling in', I also found the time to sufficiently agitate myself, wondering how Ads would handle the new environment and how I could ease the whole transition process. 

Silly me forgot that a) This is Ads' third school in two years and therefore he should be able to handle the pressure of a new environment b) He is not a 3-year old any more c) Children are far more resilient than we give them credit for, and definitely more so than paranoid mothers think.

It turned out that I had tied myself into knots for...ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! The sense of relief is overwhelming. He woke up this morning, proudly wore his new uniform and marched off to school with me and S. His class teacher seems nice. He only needed to stay for two and a half hours today and for the next two weeks (they increase the school day to four hours after two weeks) and when I went to pick him up, he was happy and well-fed, having gulped down some rice and a glass of milk. His class teacher told me he is a very "good" and "obedient" child.

I suppose mothers have to keep reminding themselves that their children have grown up!   

Here are some snapshots of the little fella in his uniform and in his classroom.

r2i so far

It's been a while since I wrote. So much has been happening in the last two months that time has been at a premium. Updating my blog has been the last thing on my mind. We left the USA on 26th February. The last week was a whirlwind of packing, unpacking and re-packing, cleaning (the apartment), saying goodbyes, attending farewell dinners and ticking off the million other things on our to-do list. I was extremely stressed. We finally ended up with 6 pieces of luggage, a car seat, a stroller, a backpack and a laptop bag - all to be transported with us on Cathay Pacific. S rented a large SUV which took us to the airport. Carting ourselves to the airport and returning the rental car to Hertz was probably the last DIY activity that we performed in that land of the independent individual.

I hadn't had the time to stress about how the kids would behave on the looong flight to India, but they surpassed my wildest expectations. Truly, they were good as gold. They slept a lot on the flight and the whining and grumbling and crying was at the absolute minimum. So when we landed at Chennai airport, we were tired (who wouldn't be?), but in a decent mood. The body clock adjusted to IST in just one day and two days later, we had embarked on the mandatory temple visits to Tiruverkaadu and Tirupathi.

Tirupathi, where we went to get Y's head shaved, was a torment, as it always is. Every time I go there, the only praying I do is to wish that this is the last time I visit, and perhaps my prayer will come true this time. 

A week after we landed, S's parents organized a large get-together of the extended family, so that everyone could meet the kids. It was held on the ground floor of the apartments where they live, and it was a blast. 

Three days later, we were off to Delhi to hunt for schools and apartments. Ads will go to K.G in Kothari International School (Noida) and after a lot of hunting, we found a lovely 3-bedroom apartment in a large community in Noida. Everything is great except that the school is a 20 minute drive (one-way) from home, a slightly longer commute than we would have liked. The mistake was mine, I did not extensively research a couple of schools that would have been closer to this apartment. We shoould have interviewed with them too. Oh well.

S joined work a week ago and we flew back to Chennai, only to leave for Bangalore a few days later where I had hired packers and movers to empty our apartment and ship the furniture and kitchen stuff to Noida.

Back in Chennai now and we leave for Delhi in a week. My mom will accompany us to help us settle down, 

Whew.

The physical exhaustion is a given. The mental exhaustion, caused mainly by the horrifying realization that we have accumulated SO MUCH STUFF in the last ten years, is greater. The thought of shopping, or adding more stuff, is annoying, even disgusting. I've always enjoyed packing. The process of deciding what to keep and what to throw has always been mildly therapeutic. Unpacking, however, is a lot like opening Pandora's box! And I am not looking forward to doing this once we reach Delhi.
To sum up,  the relocation so far has been incredibly smooth. For this I am very thankful. Hopefully Ads will adjust well in the new school and S will also enjoy his new job. It will take time but we will get there.

Farewell to our minivan

So our beloved Mazda5 gets sold tomorrow and I am feeling uncharacteristically low about it. I really don't care much about cars, and know even less about their mysterious workings, but our lovely minivan has been a favourite. Is it any wonder considering that I have spent so much time driving around in it? We had a nice sedan earlier - a Hyundai Sonata. It got totalled in a crash and we upgraded to a minivan. We didn't want anything as large as a SUV (ugly and harder to maneuvre) but the Mazda struck the perfect balance between looks and comfort, convenience and aesthetics. Before anybody thinks I am moonlighting in a Mazda dealership, let me tell you what a cousin of S's told me a month ago when he peeked into my car. This is what he saw:

1. A stroller

2. A child's scooter and helmet

3. A bag of sand-toys

4. A rug for spreading on the sand/grass

5. A case of mineral water

6. Several bottles of Gatorade

7. A jar of hand and face disinfecting wipes

8. A box of tissues

9. A clear plastic case containing complete change of clothes for each kid, including spare shoes, jackets and caps.

10. 2 umbrellas

So clearly we are always well-prepared to sit out an earthquake or thunderstorm in the car. The only things missing are snacks and diapers, of which I always have a stock in my baby bag (which I always carry with me:))

Is it then surprising that I love the car -- I spend so much time in it that it's practically my second home!

S's cousin commented that I am well on my way to becoming the quintessential suburban soccer mom, which is exactly the thought that had been crossing my mind as well!

Horror of horrors!! Definitely time to leave this country :)

The best age to have children

I chanced upon this article in the New York Times and it ties in with the conversation I have had with friends about the best age to have children. I always tell them that if they want to have two kids, then they need to work backward and see how old they want to be when they have their second. Not only do eggs not work as well the older you get, the fact is child-rearing is an energy-intensive activity and it’s a far more pleasant experience the younger and fitter you are.

I turned 30 one and a half weeks after Ads was born. I was more or less on the median age for women of my generation, a little older by Indian standards and exactly on par with the rest of my friends, who all had their first child when they were 30 or very close to it. (I only have one solitary friend who had her first when she was 26 and even that was an accident!)

If I had to do it all over again, would I change my timing? I highly doubt it. I had 5 carefree years of marriage before getting buried deep in diaper duty, I had the time to figure out what I wanted to do with my career and I had more than 3 years to establish my credibility in my chosen field, after bowing out of the corporate sector.

It’s old-fashioned to ask a woman to have her kids early; but in this case old IS gold. And well, isn’t 30 the new 20 and all that jazz??

Why are you going back?

The immediate comeback question when I inform other desis (and unfortunately, many friends and family living in India) that we are r2i is "Why?". WHY? WHY? This has to be the second most irritating question after "What do you do all day?" (which also I encounter more frequently than I care for).

No, I am not a jingoistic flag-waving type who thinks all Indians should stay in India. In fact, I think that nationalism, and religion are both outdated concepts. (Hmm...I should do a post about this). But it amuses me that when we told people that we are moving to the USA, not one single person asked me "Why?". It's assumed that the westward movement must be for the good, but the eastward movement is somehow more suspect. Why would someone want to come back to the dust and grime and potholes of India, leaving behind the oasis of America, right?

I find we have created a certain amount of dissonance in some Indians who are straddling the fence, emotionally attached to India and longing to go back but not mustering the initiative to take the plunge. In many cases, it's too hard, and justifiably so. As one of our friends put it, he is "terrified of sinking back into a middle-class lifestyle in India". In many cases, one spouse is desperate to move back, but the other isn't -- so of course they never do. I completely get that everyone has their reasons for staying, even if that reason is intertia! But the constant questioning of our decision to go back is not something I enjoy.
So, whether in India or USA, we are resigned to smilingly (not) answer the "Why" question with; "We never intended to stay here long-term"!

Ads' update (2 of ?)

Ads' obsession with drawing and Buzz Lightyear continues. He got to hear about the Power Rangers from somewhere and asked me what they were. I pulled up some videos on Youtube but they were violent and not something I wanted him to see. He didn't insist on watching them but seemed to understand that they were some variety of superheroes, and therefore, legitimate fodder for his over-active imagination. As I write this, he is jumping about on the couch simulating some Power Ranger moves!
He still goes to school for 6 hours (9 am to 3 pm) and seems to be the better for it. Sheets of phonics are regularly brought back home. They have been learning about the Americas in school (Montessori has a strong emphasis on geography) and he stumped me the other day by telling me he knew where French Guyana was. The only other place where I have heard this country mentioned is in the pages of The Economist! The day before that, we were talking about fruits and how they could be grown someplace else and consumed someplace else. I picked up the clementines we had bought that week and told him "Now, see, these oranges come from a country called Ecuador. Ecuador is in..." and he completed the sentence for me - South America!! IMPRESSED :)

The other habit he has picked up of late is to chide me when I repeat something a tad too often. "Amma, I already KNOW that!" he will whine. And sometimes add "Can you please not say that again and again?" It has conveniently escaped his notice that he never does anything if told only once, and that it requires sustained nagging to get him to perform any task!
He is mostly very good with little sister too, including her in a lot of his games and reading voluntarily to her. His biggest irritant is that she makes fun of him (yes, it's true -- the 4-year old is upset because the 1-year old teases him!) by mimicking his crying bouts. Whenever he is even a little bit whiny or cranky, off she goes, parodying his whining tone. Instantly he retaliates "STOP THAT!! I am NOT crying!" The more he protests, the more delighted Y gets, setting in chain a vicious cycle of protests and more whining. I have asked him to ignore her when she does this, but not giving his sibling the gratification of annoying him is a concept he is unable to grasp.

I have been very lax in getting him to speak Tamil at home. I used to be very diligent about this earlier but for the last several months, I have slipped; and it shows. Where he used to be very fluent in Tamil, increasingly English is the only tongue he speaks. I console myself with the thought that the next couple of months in Chennai and onward to Delhi will remedy this situation and soon he will be speaking Hindi as well as Tamil and English.

Ads and r2i

There is a sense of relief now the the r2i decision has been made and we are moving to Delhi in a month or so. The uncertainity of the last few months has come to an end and I am even looking forward to experiencing a new city. As we make humungous to-do lists, sort and dispose of our stuff, call up Delhi brokers and schools, and explore shipping options, there is at the back of my mind an unease and anxiety which I know is only going to intensify over the next couple of months. You know that uncomfortable and nasty feeling that wells up from the pit of your stomach before an important exam or interview that you haven't prepared for, a feeling that makes you almost nauseous? There is only one person who can make me feel that way nowadays, and that is Ads. I am deeply anxious about how he will adjust in India, to a new school, friends and lifestyle. He knows we are moving but I'm not sure it has sunk in yet.

Maybe I'm over-protective about him because he is my first-born. Maybe I got so used to being anxious about him and his well-being, right from the time I saw those two dark-blue lines on the home pregnancy test, all through those not-so-pleasant months of my pregnancy where I prayed incessantly that my baby should be full-term and healthy. Maybe because he hates change, and disruption to routine. Maybe because he is so gentle and I fear he can't handle a big school and a strange environment.

So even though I am a logical reasonable person and I know that children are far more resilient that we give them credit for, I worry about him. I worry about this conscious decision of ours to uproot him from the loved and the familiar. I hate the thought of his first day in the new school, when he will cling to me and cry and beg me not to leave.

As a mother, I know that is a burden you have to carry all your life. A few years ago, I would scold my mother for worrying about me and my brother; but now all I feel is empathy.

As we move to yet another stage in our lives, I have my fingers crossed that it will be an easy journey for Ads.

Naughtiness thy name is Yukta

Highlights from a typical day of dealing with Y's naughtiness -

8 am: Y methodically plucks sundry keys from S's laptop keyboard. Rare yelling session by S occurs.

9.30 am: Y drops S's cellphone into a mug of hot tea, which I was holding in my hand. Another yelling session by S.

11.30 am: Ads is watching TV and she keeps fiddling with the DVD player. Manages to pull open DVD tray and Ads is in tears when the cartoon stops playing.

3.00 pm: Bites Ads in his stomach, leaving behind red puncture marks. Poor Ads reels and cries from the unexpected pain.

5.00 pm: I find the trash can in the bathroom emptied all over the floor (WHICH FOOL LEFT THE LOO DOOR OPEN??? Oops it was me!)

Every 5-10 minutes: Climb onto dining table chair and bang on my laptop keyboard randomly. I'm surprised it's still working.

She needs a contructive outlet for all that energy. Oh for the rains to stop and sunny park-weather days to be here again!

Of brothers and sisters

The three of us, kids and I are alone in the apartment. I'm in the bedroom folding and sorting laundry, making the bed or some other random and mundane chore. From the living room, I hear giggles and snatches of conversation. My mommy antenna pops up. I sneak to the door and slowly extend my head to peek into the living room. Two dark heads are bent over a book. One with black, straight, closely-cropped hair; the other with dark brown curls tumbling in an unruly mass over forehead and neck. Unasked by me, of his own volition, he is reading to his sister. He points out objects and calls out their name. Car. Bus. Apple. Baby. She repeats the words after him. He puts down one book and picks up another. And then another. She is engaged and amused. Every now and then he says something that both find acutely funny.

The sheer beauty of the bond between brother and sister is second only to the bond tethering parent and child.

Lessons learnt when flying solo

S is away in India and I am handling the kids by myself for the last several days, with another week to go. I was terrified of this scenario. Countless questions spun around in my mind. How will I shower? How will I entertain the two? What do I do on weekends? What do I do for adult conversation? And so on.

It has been far easier than I envisaged. I realized that the fear of the unknown, untried and untested is so much more fearsome than the reality of the unknown. My fears turned out to be tissue-paper thin and after a few days, I found myself ridiculing the old me who made a mountain out of a molehill.

Yes it is hard to take a shower. Yes I long for a break, even one just long enough to eat one square meal in peace. Yes they both jump on me and whine and vie for attention at the same time. Yes it is incredibly hard to devote time to both, fulfil their different physical and emotional needs, keep the house clean(ish), do the laundry and the dishes and drive them around to school, library, park......the list goes on.

Thus, second important lesson learnt. Their behaviour mirrors mine. If I remain calm and in control, they stay calm and in control. I don't have the luxury of flying off the handle and losing it, because if I get mad at them, whom can they run to for support? At this point, I am the only parent they have. So I have to be good as gold. And you know what? They are being good as gold too. (Well, mostly....).

Playing Supermom has done wonders for my momfidence!

Of food and other things

An important lesson I learnt after moving to the States and observing American moms at work was that the sooner you teach your toddler to be independent, the better (for you mostly, but also for your child). I still have a big problem with the western habit of plonking a 6-week old child in her own crib and room, far away from her parents; but other than that, there's a lot of be learnt from the super-efficient way in which American moms teach their children to feed and dress themselves from a very early age. It was a little too late for me to implement these ideas with Ads, but I am trying to remedy that defect now that I have Y to practise upon. She has been a most willing and eager student.

The first thing to know about Y is that, she loves to eat. Period. I've been lucky that Ads is a good eater too, though his menu of choices has gone down but it's still large enough for me not to worry about what he's going to eat when we are on the road. (So why are both my kids so skinny????). With her good motor skills, she is able to grasp a plastic tumbler filled with milk and gulp it down with a minimum of liquid tricking down her clothes. She has been snacking on an assortment of finger foods - paneer and cheese bits, cheese puffs (her favourite), cookies and crackers, slices of apple and banana, and frosted cereal. Not content with what is offered to her on the highchair tray, she insists on snacking from my plate. In the last few days, she has gobbled down a quarter of a roti, bits of bread with nutella and sunflower seed butter, a couple of grapes, and some pulao. With such a cooperative ward, I would be incompetent indeed if I didn't teach her to feed herself by the time she is 18 months old.

She has picked up a few more words like Yeah (she uses it all the time, mostly in context!), Bye, Hi. There's a lot of babbling going on all the time all of which means something I am sure but which is all quite incomprehensible. She is still pretty clingy but doesn't have as much stranger anxiety as earlier. She is constantly trying to find out how things work. Having noticed how we point the remote at the TV screen, she walks around pointing my cellphone at the TV, willing it to spring to life. She points the car keys at the car and my house keys at the elevator button!

Here is a snapshot of Y working hard at some munchies.

Blogging after a break

Posting has been slow after we got back from our vacation in Hawaii. The lazy holiday mood carried over even after we landed in 40 degree chilly San Francisco after enjoying the 85 degree sunny and gorgeous Maui climate. It was our best vacation ever (I seem to say that after every trip but this time I think it's really true!) and there were a lot of memorable sights and activities but two things really stand out. One sounds really rather silly when put down in black and white but it's just that, with kids, life becomes so hectic and one of the things my post-baby self has always wanted to do is relax in a cozy armchair with a cup of steaming hot coffee or tea and gaze at the ocean waves lapping on the beach; and I got to do that in Maui. I would wake up by 7 am or so, too late to catch the sunrise, but early enough to beat the morning traffic of S, Y and A; make myself a cup of coffee and sink gratefully into the rattan armchair in the balcony of our condo. Coconut trees everywhere, a mountain with windmills lined up near the summit, and the restless sea. Bliss.

The second thing that I remember with great clarity was the random walk Ads and I took one morning, to the beach near our condo. We wandered through knee-high unkempt grass with no particular purpose, stopping every now and then to (literally) smell the flowers. We plucked some wildflowers, examined the bark of some coconut trees, and even tried to climb one (horribly difficult!). Ads ran ahead of me calling back to me "Honey, come here!" He was a tiny figure in his blue shorts and white T-shirt. He looked so young and vulnerable and I felt a sudden pang of regret that just because he has a younger sibling, maybe we treat him as older than he is and expect a standard of behaviour that is simply not possible for a kid his age? I see parents with just one child who still treat that child, whether they are 5, 7 or 10 years old, like a baby. Maybe we would also treat Ads like the not-long-out-of-babyhood kid that he is, if Y hadn't been around. I decided to be more patient with him, a noble resolution that lasted only as long as his next tantrum that same day :(

Speaking of which, it has been an uphill task dealing with Ads' multiple daily tantrums. For the last 1.5 years, we have been having a hard time dealing with his emotional ups and downs and somehow I thought that after he turned 4, the problem would sort itself out. He would be more mature, we are giving him lots of attention despite (or indeed, because of) Y being around, he would be more settled at school etc etc. None of our predictions have come true and while we are managing this frustrating phase in his childhood, we are far from knowing what triggers these outbursts or whether, as his teacher claims, it's just a stage many kids go through and we don't need to fret about it. Neither the carrot nor the stick approach seems to work. Withdrawing certain privileges as a punishment for bad behaviour is my formula; but what do you do with a kid who calmly accepts a temporary ban on TV and reading books and drawing (his 3 favourite activities) and doesn't seem to learn anything from it? S is amused, I am sheepish and frustrated and the whole incident has no impact on his Majestic Tantrumness.

Y has been engaging us in a different manner; but that is fodder for another post.

Jingle bells and reindeers

Yesterday afternoon, we attended the holiday performance in Ads' school. Ads had not given me any dope on what he was doing in the play, other than that he was a reindeer. The school had asked us to outfit him in a white turtleneck, brown pants and black shoes so that's what he wore. As it turned out, he wasn't doing anything much at all other than looking cute with reindeer horns upon his head!! Some 15 kids, all reindeers, marched in and jingled hand-held bells and that was it. Ads was nervous, we could tell, and jingled and jangled with no particular enthusiasm. Then they were sent off-stage to sit on the floor and that was it. I was taken aback because the rest of the 45-odd kids from the Primary classroom remained on the stage the whole time i.e. for almost 45 minutes. There didn't seem to be any good reason why the other 15 weren't on stage too, and allowed to do their thing. It seemed so unfair and I really wish Ads had got a chance to be in on the chorus or something. Even if he didn't sing, I did want him to get that exposure of being up there in front of a large group of people.

I would talk to his teacher about my reservations if I didn't know that we would not be around next year, so it seems rather pointless to argue. The teachers had told me a couple of weeks back that they don't "force" the kids to do anything, and the child has to "show" interest in performing. Well I think that a 4-year old might not necessarily evince enthusiasm at first. He may however, start getting interested in the whole exercise after a few days when he sees his friends practicing. Or, he could be a shy type (all the more reason why he should be brought out of his shell!) and might not volunteer to sing and dance. I used to be a painfully shy child but when I was 6, a teacher decided that I should dance on stage, and so I did. When I was 7 or 8, another teacher in another school decided that I would be perfect to play Red Riding Hood's mother in the class play, and so I did. These small beginnings led to a zeal for dramatics which continued to college-level and increased my self-confidence no end. The point is, sometimes you can bring a child out of his shell, or get him interested in performing, by giving him a little push - just a little push, not a shove. Why not?

That apart, the kids did a fabulous job, rendering Xmas favourites such as Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, Jingle Bells, the 12 days of Xmas and so on. It was a treat to watch how self-assured some of them were, and how cute all of them were!

Snapshot - 30 minutes in the life of Ms Y

Climb on dining room chair, and from chair onto dining table. Methodically throw down on floor all of Anna's crayons and assorted drawing tools, also his precious artwork. Climb down to carpet, start chewing crayons, markers and bits of paper until Amma stops her.

Toddle over to bookshelf and bring back a book for Amma to read. Amma tells her it is Anna's book. Throw down that book in disgust. Toddle back to bookshelf and bring back more age-appropriate book.

Sit down on Amma's lap. Read book. Go get another. Read that one.

Amma says " Please play with your toys for a few minutes, Y, while I finish cooking". Toys = paper cups, paper plates and plastic cutlery in a cupboard right under Amma's feet. Start throwing plates and cups all over kitchen floor. Amma silently cursing Appa for not installing child locks on kitchen cupboards inspite of being reminded 10,000 times. When alumninum foil starts being chewed on, Amma picks up Y and deposits her near the toy basket.

Looks at 122 toys the basket and decides that none of them are worth playing with. A couple are worth chewing though. Mmmmm.

Horribly bored. Stands next to amma and whines until Amma picks her up.

Kiss amma. Practice saying "amma, appa, anna, bow bow, quack quack."

After 10 seconds, get bored of being held. Push pudgy knees against Amma's chest while simultaneously propelling herself backward by pressing toes against Amma's stomach. Treatment is successful (as usual) - Amma lets go.

Run to couch, leap casually onto it, then climb to the very top, near headrest. Rock back and forth on the recliner, all the while shouting and laughing gleefully.

Climb down from couch, toddle to kitchen, rummage through drawer where extra groceries are stored. Decide that maggi masala packet beongs to the trash can. Throw it in trash can. Decide that popcorn packet should ideally be in laundry basket. Hurtles to laundry basket, open it and throw popcorn packet in. Laundry basket lid falls on top of hand. Wail in distress until Amma retreives hand and soothes ouchie.

Drama queen continues to shed crocodile tears until appropriate amount of fuss has been made, and kisses bestowed.

Kicks amma in belly, demands to be let down.

Amma tries to engage her in some constructive activity, like beading. Beads are examined, licked, (almost) swallowed and finally chucked at various things around the house. Some roll under couch/bed where they will lie in oblivion for several days.

Helps amma unload dryer, carry a few clothes to the bed.

As amma folds the clothes, finger anna's socks. Walk with socks to bathroom, throw socks into the toilet.

Amma is furious, so some tears are shed (again!)

Plonked into the highchair. Lunch time. Blow raspberries at Amma and spatter food all over the high chair tray and Amma.

And so it goes on....

Ad-lib #3

Conversations with Ads are becoming more interesting by the day.

Ads: Is Hanuman real?

Me: He is real if you believe that he is real. Do you think he's real?

Ads: NOOOO

Pause.

Ads: Actually yes. He's right next to me with his gadai (mace). He protects me.

I stay mum because I don't want to have this conversation just then :(

Ads (whining when we drag him through downtown Santa Barbara): I don't want to walk. I'm tired.

Me: Just a little more okay?

Ads: Mommy I want to tell you something. I don't like such trips where you make me walk so much.

Me: Ok baby, this is the last such trip ok? (Yeah right!)

Ads: But I should keep an open mind right?

Me: What?

Ads: I should keep an open mind. The Berenstain Bears Mama bear said so. (in the episode where the bear cubs were complaining just like Ads and their mom tells them to keep an open mind and look for interesting things while travelling - I was surprised how he could correlate the two situations)

Me: Yay for the Berenstain Bears Mama Bear!

Ads: Amma, when I grow up, I want to be a Appa.

Me: You mean you want to have kids?

Ads: Yes. But I need to find a mommy too right?

Me: Yup. You can marry someone.

Ads: I will marry some aunty (Nooooo!)

Me: Yes...some girl that you like. How many kids will you have?

Ads: Two. One boy and one girl. No, actually, I will have two boys. I don't like girls.

Me: (No answer to that one :))

Ads: I don't like this soup amma.

I try to coax him into drinking it up.

Ads: I want to have a hole in my neck. Then I can pour food that I don't like, into that hole.

What a terrific idea! We could all have two mouths, and all the yummy stuff could go into one, and all the healthy and yucky-tasting stuff could be poured into the other hole so that we wouldn't have to taste it!

The buzz in our house is...

Yes he is holding his underwear in his hand! He wraps it around his face to simulate Buzz Lightyear's mask. I only stipulate that it must be clean underwear :)

Board games ahoy

One of the fondest and clearest memories of my childhood is the board games that my parents, my brother and I used to play, very frequently in the late evenings after dinner, starting from the time I was 8 or 9 to maybe around 14 years. Ludo was the universal favourite but we also played Snakes and Ladders and Parchisi. In later years, Pictionary and Scrabble ruled the roost, and I remember my brief flirtation with Chess and Carrom. Playing these games involved a lot of laughter, teasing and fun and the bonus was, that in my case atleast, it created enduring and precious memories. We had Family Game Night in my family before Hasbro decided to make it a National occasion.

So obviously I couldn't wait to introduce Ads to some of these board games. I picked up a nice Sesame-Street themed version of Chutes and Ladders very cheap at a second-hand kids' store that I frequent. My cousin bought him the Dr. Seuss ABC game and he got the I never forget a face memory game as a birthday gift. Then I researched the best board games for preschoolers and being the sort of person who goes overboard when it comes to shopping, just HAD to buy him Candyland and Hi-ho Cherry-O! So now we have 5 games, all of which he likes thankfully and I try to spend some time with him everyday playing these. The only drawback is that we can only play when S is at home to watch Y, because she grabs all the pieces, sits on the board and generally makes a perfect nuisance of herself.

I had a vague idea that board games are both fun and educational. But I didn't really appreciate how educative they could be, until I started playing with Ads. Mastery of colours, letter & number recognition, counting, grouping & pattern recognition, are some of the concepts they teach, not to mention the improvement in small motor skills that inevitably results. The social skills they teach are even more important - courtesy, waiting and taking turns, not intruding on someone else's space, and so on. An interesting observation I made was how difficult it was for Ads to lose a game. In the beginning, he would tell me that "I will be very upset if I lose". For a child, the joy of winning is as intense as the despondency of losing. Given their very limited ability to manage frustration and cope with loss, it is a tough balancing act to incorporate the teaching element into the game; i.e. it is okay to lose, there are ups and downs in life and we have to take the good with the bad. Since he (like all children) takes game-playing so seriously, it is very important to him that he win; he does not yet understand that these are games of chance and not skill. I have been told by other moms that it is okay at this age to "let" the child win most of the time since the concept of rules and fair play is not something that they easily understand.

I think Ads gets it now, somewhat. He seems to understand that he could win a game, and lose the next one. He could ascend a ladder to the top of the board, and the next moment his luck could change and he would be sliding down a chute to the bottom of the board. Learning moments aside, I am enjoying every bit of the few minutes we spend poring over a dice, some cards and a game board.

2 trips in 7 days

S went off to Mexico 2 weekends ago, leaving me to have my first brush with the single-parenting gig. I was feeling quite resentful I tell you, visualizing all the uninterrupted meal-eating, shower-taking, newspaper-reading and computer time S was going to have while I would be walking around unwashed exhausted and hungry for 4 days. My imagination was overheated thinking of how difficult it would be to have no backup. However, thankfully my kids like to prove me wrong and they were ANGELS for the 4 days that S was away. In fact, I got more rest/sleep than when S is around which led me to believe that he is the principal work-creator in our household.

In fact, the only really difficult thing to do without another adult in the house is to take a bath. S had suggested that I strap Y in her high-chair and keep her in the bathroom while I showered but I knew she would scream her head off if I did that. I left the bathroom door open and she was pottering around in there, pulling aside the shower curtain every now and then. I kept pulling it closed and she thought I was playing peekaboo with her. We did this for a couple of minutes and then she started chucking things into the bathtub - a plastic pail (which, with deadly accuracy, landed on my little toe), a few toys, a board book, and some baby wash (of course the bottle had to be partially open; in a few seconds the assorted items and I were standing in soapy slippery water). That was when I decided to stop my feeble attempt to take a decent shower.

S got back on Wednesday and on Thursday morning we were off as scheduled for our annual Thanksgiving weekend trip; this time to California's central coast, a couple of hours north of Los Angeles. We were supposed to spend a day cruising the Channel Islands, something I was looking forward to very very much; unfortunately due to large swells and high winds our trip to the islands got cancelled not once, but twice. That was a disappointment. But the rest of the holiday, to Santa Barbara and Solvang, was just wonderful.

Is there any part of California that is not gorgeous? Nature has definitely blessed this state with remarkable beauty. In the last 3 years, we have covered all the must-see regions of this state, all except two that is; we have not been to the far north of the state, where the redwood forests are; and we have not been to Death Valley, which is desert. As our R2I plans get crystallized, it seems unlikely that we will manage to see these places before we leave, so they shall be added to my MUST-SEE list which is getting longer by the day!

Ads' update (1 of ?)

We had a parent-teacher conference at school some days ago. Teacher H started off by saying "When I think of Advaith, colouring and drawing are what come to mind." I had posted earlier about their concern that he spent too much time on artwork, at the expense of learning new stuff in school. He had stopped drawing after I had my little chat with him, but only for a few days; apparently he now does his other work/lessons quite half-heartedly and it is obvious that he is in a tearing hurry to get back to his drawing. Teacher H even mentioned that he is very "far away" from starting to read because he simply has no interest in it. Any other school would pretty much force him to start reading whether he liked it or not, but not a Montessori school. As much as I love the overall concept, I have to admit that probably Ads is not the best candidate for it. A child who is naturally self-directed and self-motivated will flourish and learn beyond measure in this system. A child like Ads, at the age of 4, will know that crabs walk sideways and snakes are invertebrates and that a circle has an infinite number of sides, but cannot (because he will not) read even the simplest of words.

Coming back to the conference with his teachers, overall they are happy with him. He gets along well with kids and adults alike and is polite and considerate. We still have to work on getting him to display more interest in subjects other than art.

And the Buzz Lightyear obsession continues. I saw an ad for a Buzz costume on craigslist for $3 and promptly snapped it up. He has been thrilled with it and parades around in the costume every afternoon. I haven't been able to upload a photo of him as Buzz since Blogger has been acting funny. Maybe I will have better luck tomorrow.

Happy birthday Yukta

Our little pumpkin is 1 today. It has been a year of family, travel and learning the ropes as the mother of two children. My learning curve has never been this steep. We largely ignored Y in the initial months, preoccupied as we were in tending to Ads’ issues and tantrums, supposedly common for a 3-year old. I might have given her more attention if my parents and in-laws weren’t around; as it was, she thrived without me doing much more than nursing her every couple of hours. As she grew older and more demanding, she began getting her share of attention, and well-deserved it was too.

My beautiful, feisty, vibrant and adventurous baby. What a pleasure she is, every moment of every day. We call her “little princess” and indeed it’s almost impossible to imagine that our family was complete without her. She seems to have overcome her stranger anxiety and is much more comfortable with people she doesn’t know, unabashedly staring at them (I love how un-self-conscious kids are!) and waving her little hands at them. She is unafraid – we frequently find her sitting on the floor in a room with the lights off, quite happily playing with a toy in the dark. She is incredibly affectionate – when S or I enter the house, she drops whatever she is doing and runs, nay hurtles, towards us on her little chubby legs, a large toothy grin fixed on her face. At that moment, the heart turns over. Always up for a game, a big laugh or some giggles, some dancing or some rough-housing, she is going to be a confident, gregarious girl. I can already tell that she shows every sign of maturing into a typical Scorpio; and it’s a foregone conclusion that she will be able to wrap her father and me easily around her little finger, something her much-too-innocent brother has never figured out!

When I was pregnant with Y, I used to (naively) wonder whether I would love my second child just as much as I loved Ads. Could anything match the fierce protectiveness and heart-stopping love I felt for Ads? How could it be possible that I feel the exact same thing for another child? I knew it would happen; after all, don’t our parents love us and our siblings equally? Maybe in different ways, but equally nonetheless.

The strange thing was, I fell in love with Y immediately. There was none of that waiting period which I experienced with Ads. It was unadulterated, unconditional love at first sight. As intense a feeling as I felt for my first-born. I think I enjoy my time with her a lot more than I did with Ads. Perhaps that is the magic of the second child. You are less paranoid and less focused on being the perfect parent, and more on just being there and savouring every moment.

And yes, we take as many pictures of her as we did of her brother!

Happy birthday, munchkin. It makes my heart break just a little bit to know that you are entering the strange new world of toddlerhood. Soon you will not be a baby any more. That heavenly baby smell, that velvet baby hair and that sweet baby taste will vanish much too soon. When will science allow us to bottle touch? 

I hate letting you go (don’t all mothers?) but the coming year will be filled with new joys and adventures. Here’s to a long healthy and happy life, Yukta.

Y loves her milk

Y started drinking regular milk 2 days ago. I picked up a half-gallon of whole vitamin-D supplemented organic milk from Trader Joe's and she has been having a quarter glass twice a day, which she enjoys.

Here is a picture of her reading. She is developing an interest in books and has a couple of favourite books already. Incidentally this book is a very well-thumbed one which was also Advaith's favourite!

R2I Part I - Schools

So the R2I (Return to India, for the uninitiated) decision has been taken. The hunt for schools and, incidentally, a job, has begun. Predictably, the state of affairs in Bangalore (and I am sure, in most other Indian metros) with respect to school admissions is so bad that the problem of LKG admissions assumes a strange sort of fake importance which overshadows the wee fact that the father of the LKG applicant doesn’t yet have a job which will take us back to India.

The not-so-exhaustive hunt for suitable schools led us to short listing the 2 schools that we will be applying to. The National Public School (NPS) and the Delhi Public School (DPS). The international schools are too pricey, some of the well-known ones are too distant, and (to my mind) elitist. The well-known Bangalore schools (like Bishop Cotton, FAPS etc) are too hard to get into, oversubscribed as they are by alumni’s kids and grandkids. There seem to be a lot of new schools which don’t fall into either of these categories and about which I read mixed reviews. Not being in a position to tour the schools and make up our own minds, we have fallen back on friend’s recommendations. Which have the drawback of being biased because absolutely everyone has jumped onto the NPS/DPS bandwagon. The one school that I was really interested in, a Montessori one called Sishugriha in Indiranagar, has closed admissions.

In any case, we had asked a friend to pick up the forms for NPS and they only managed to pick up one form, that of the Koramangala branch. Apparently the queues for picking up the forms were a km long! The whole experience seems to have been an unpleasant one, and what I don't understand is why all this hype and exclusivity just to apply. Stanford and Wharton are highly exclusive too, but even they don't make it so hard for a candidate to apply to them! Why not just put the forms online and make it easy for everybody? More people will be able to download and apply and the school will make more money out of this unholy racket!

So, we'll apply and hope Ads gets in, simply because the school is so close to our apartment in Bangalore. It will be a breeze of a commute for the little fella.

Thoughts from a crazy day

S has had such a crazy work schedule for the last few weeks (conference calls at 4 am - can you beat that!), that I have begun to feel like a single parent. It’s a hard 12-hour shift everyday and the only “me-time” I get is a long hot shower after S gets home in the evening. Yes, a simple bath has begun to seem like a luxury!

I have to admit that it has gotten easier with time. Managing 2 small kids all by myself and playing the multiple roles of chauffeur, maid, cook and nanny no longer appears to be that scary. Part of the reason for this is that I have started working smarter and managing my time much better than I used to.

So we were plodding along and just when I started patting myself on a job reasonably well-done, Y brought me back to earth by sponsoring the “Day from Hell Part 1 (to be continued)”. She whined and clung and cried and was so cranky that she dragged me down along with her into her pit of misery. What compounded it was the fact that I could just not understand what it was that was so upsetting her, a fact that gave instant rise to feelings of being a bad mother because I could not diagnose the source of my daughter’s crankiness.

By noon, I was faint with hunger because she didn’t allow me to cook and decided I didn’t have the right to even fix myself a simple sandwich for lunch. By 3 pm, I was ready to climb to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge and thrown myself down into the Bay, thankful that I didn’t know how to swim. I did what I usually do in these situations – packed all three of us in the car and head to the nearest part – convinced all we needed was some fresh air. It always works. And it did this time as well.

A bad day in the life of a stay-at-home mother is bad not simply because it’s - well, bad. Not simply because you want to throttle your kids and then throttle yourself – I know that all mothers want to do that at some point in their life, not that most of them would admit to such unmaternal feelings!

It’s bad because you are forced to confront the hard fact that your entire life has come down to this. Soiled diapers. The smell of milk and vomit (when your kid cries so hard she throws up on you). A frazzled you who looks worse than a Chennai ragpicker. And worst of all, a baby who is unhappy inspite of your best efforts to the contrary.

And when all of these things happen, it’s almost impossible to maintain perspective, a bird’s eye view so to speak, and not think about how your life would have been without kids. A glittering career (HA!!). A social life not involving playdates. Unencumbered travel. Sleep. Fine dining. The list goes on and on. I *almost almost* envy my friends who decided not to have children.

And then the moment passes. Y laughs as we watch a train pass by on the tracks near our apartment (I don’t know why that is so funny, but then she’s a baby) and looking at that dimpled smile, that snub nose and those big brown eyes that look at me with love and trust even though I am the lousiest mother in the world, I remember that there was a good reason why I had children in the first place.

So, my prescription (to myself) when a bad day gets worse: Get some fresh air. Take several deep breaths. Live in the moment. Remember that kids grow up.

(And leave you. And ignore you. And make you miserable all over again!)

To draw or not to draw

I've been somewhat concerned for many weeks now that all Ads seems to do in school is draw. He spends 3 hours every day, from 9 am to 12 noon, drawing. Which wouldn't bother me all that much except that for 850 bucks a month, it would be nice if he actually learnt something once in a while. I was about to talk to one of his teachers about this but fortunately Teacher M herself brought up the topic.

First she asked me whether he watches any TV.

Can you wilt in guilt? Cos that's what I did. I'm sure she noticed. Ads watches much more TV now than he did before Y was born, but I wasn't admitting that to Teacher M's beady disapproving eye. I admitted that he watches a little bit of TV (HA!!), mainly real-life action videos like firefighters, police officers etc and yes he has watched some of the DISNEY movies as well. The school has a strong distaste for cartoon characters. You are not supposed to send your kids with cartoon-or superhero-themed clothes or shoes. No lunch boxes or bags with such motifs. And definitely no Halloween costumes. It has always seemed a little extreme to me, but that's the rule.

Teacher M says that Ads needs to stop watching movies or videos because he gets so involved with the characters and the stories that he wants to spend all his time translating his imaginative thoughts onto paper. They have asked him several times to learn a new lesson or do some other work and apparently he always says "I'm not done with my drawing yet". Teacher M says I need to "stop the flow of information" to him so that he concentrates on other work also, in school. I was happy to concur.

So Ads and I had a little chat later that day and he has agreed to a) confine his drawing to when he is at home b) take a new lesson or practice existing lessons everyday at school. I used the opportunity to sneak in another bit of legislation that I wanted. They get about 15 minutes of outdoor playtime everyday which Ads spends inside the classroom when I would much rather he stay outside and run around. I negotiated that he could keep his existing TV privileges as long as he played outdoors every morning.

So far, it has been working well. The good thing about all that drawing of course was that it improved his fine motor skills to the extent that he has started writing alphabets and numbers by himself, with little or no intervention either by his teachers or by us.

First few concrete words and actions

Yukta has started saying 2 more words.

Anna - she stretches the N out so that it sounds like this: A-nnnn-aa.

And Appa too - A-pp-aa.

Train is The-the.

But still no Amma :)

We ask her Thala engae, and she touches the back of her head. Thoppai engae, and she pats her stomach/chest area. Yukta clap-clap, ta-ta, bye-bye and high-five all elicit the appropriate responses.

I really can't remember how verbal Ads was at the age of 11 months. Probably around the same. He has always been very advanced in verbal skills, especially more so compared to other boys. It is wonderful to experience the same stage again with Y.

Friday morning artwork

Ads had an unexpected holiday on Friday and I used the opportunity to engage him in some artwork. We have a string of birthdays coming up in the family (Sanjay's dad, brother and niece), and Ads made cards for each person. I try to recycle his artwork as much as I can, so the base for each of the cards is a drawing that Ads had already done, at school or home.

The first photo for example is the inside of the card he made for his 3-year old cousin. It had paper cuttings of the 3 little pigs and their houses (made in school) and I got him to redecorate it and convert it into a greeting card (frontage in the 3rd photo, the brown card with a "3" stuck on top)

The second photo is the inside of a card made for his grandfather. He has drawn the whole "CARS" series, since the CARS movie was something he and Thatha enjoyed watching together, multiple times. The exterior of the card already had a butterfly motif, all he did was stick some feathers and decals on it.

The third card is actually the nicest one. I used a nice drawing he had done, of Buzz Lightyear (from "Toy Story"), made him stick it on a foam board, and mounted the latter on another, larger foam board. It's the large pink card. Then he embellished it with paper cut-outs and stickers.

We wrote (or rather, I wrote and then read it out to him!) a personalised message for each recipient and bingo, the cards were ready.

I see a gradual and distinct improvement in his drawngs every month. Where there were weak squiggles (he calls them "scribble-scrabble"!), there are bold confident strokes. Where there was just a mess of paint and colour, there are decipherable images and coordinated colour schemes. It just warms the heart :)

Driving without (or with?) a purpose

Yesterday H aunty, a cousin of my mother-in-law, spent a few hours with us. During the course of the afternoon, she said she had to buy a few things and could I take her to the shops? So we bundled Y in her carseat and off we went. By the time we finished shopping and set off for home, Y was distinctly antsy due to a lack of sleep. As we entered our parking lot, I glanced back at the rear seat to see her starting glassily out of the window, a sure sign that she was about to drop off very soon. Rather than yanking her out of the carseat at that time and running the 100% risk of a meltdown, I told H aunty I was going to drive around a bit more to make sure she fell asleep. So out of the parking lot we went.

I drove around quiet residential streets in Santa Clara for 15 minutes, maintaining an even 25-30 mph and taking care to keep the sun on my left (Y keeps tearing off her carseat canopy with the result that the sun hits her directly on her face). H aunty was dozing. The silent houses seemed to be slumbering in the afternoon heat, just like Y at the back. The only sounds keeping me company were the purr of the car engine, the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the barely audible squawks from FM 106.9.

It occured to me what a large proportion of my time as a mother I have spent in activities like these. Driving aimlessly through city streets in an effort to calm a fussing child. Parked in a quiet street, the windows down and an afternoon breeze blowing through the car as both child and mother dozed. Swinging Ads with both arms, back and forth, back and forth while belting out garbled version of 60's Hindi film songs. Rocking Y, up-down up-down, on the Lazy-boy. All in a bid to grab that grand prize - SLEEP baby sleep so that I can get some rest.

As much as parenting involves to such a large extent performance of such repetitive, mind-numbing and monotonous tasks, I have to admit that my most serene and reflective moments have occurred while engaged in such tasks. If God lies in the details, then surely peace lies in a sleeping child cradled in your arms.

A favourite festival

The title of this post reminds me of the essays we had to write in school. My favourite things. My hobbies. And yes, my favourite festival, too! Navarathri has in recent years attained the status of my favourite festival, although as I was growing up, it didn't hold a special place in my heart. My mother didn't keep a "Golu" (probably she would have if I had shown the slightest interest!) and the whole pattu-pavadai, paattu and socialization business simply left me cold. When I was married and living in Bangalore, I suddenly developed an interest in Golu (a spanking new apartment and a spare room contributed to this new-found interest!) and for 2 years I did keep a Golu. Here's a picture from the first year (2004).

Sadly, I had to give away my beautiful dolls when we relocated. This last week, I have been decking myself up in sarees and Y in her one-and-only paattu paavadai and we have been attending Golus. It has been a lot of fun. I have promised myself to reestablish a Navarathri celebration, complete with sundal and Golu, from next year.

Newbie walker with hiccups

Drunken weaving in and out at home.

Mini-pizzas at 6 am

I decided to make mini-pizzas for Ads' lunch today, and I took a picture of them before I popped them into the oven because they looked so colourful.

Drat -- still can't get perfectly round rotis or pizzas!!!

A tomato

What is she thinking - the tomato is almost as big as her face!

I was waiting for this

The Superhero obsession, that is.

It started with Spiderman, moved briefly to Superman and Batman, hovered enthusiastically over Mr. Incredible, and has now fixated on Buzz Lightyear (from "Toy Story"). I have to admit I am a little relieved to get some respite from the firefighting and policing squad. Yesterday Ads was most offended when I told him to please please stop talking non-stop about police and fires and fire trucks and all that otherwise my head was going to explode with the massive headache I was having. I wasn't exaggerating - two years of non-stop natter about the same topic has me craving for other subjects. It's time to move on, little fella.

Shots, tears and 3 Ferraris

I really should have double-checked before we left. I smugly promised Ads that he wouldn't be getting any shots at his 4-5 year well-child check up yesterday. Turned out he needed not one, or two pricks - but FIVE!!!! Yikes - that was enough to freak even me out. It doesn't help much to tell a very apprehensive 4-year old to relax his muscles while getting the shot in order to minimise the pain. The waiting room in Pediatric Injections was bursting to capacity and we had to wait for almost an hour before we were called.

Ads sat on my lap for most of that time (hmm....you ever see a 4-year old boy sitting in one place for that long....not that I'm complaining!!), talking non-stop and bestowing nervousness-fuelled kisses on me every 5 seconds. Like I said, I'm not complaining :)

He yelled and cried for each of the injections. The funny thing is he used to endure vaccinations with just a minor whimper when he was a baby. It used to be such a breeze. I panicked and promised him a gift when we got home if he stopped crying (yeah I bribe my kids even when I don't need to; I belatedly realized that the nurse was going to give him some Batman and Shrek stickers and the fella would have been happy just with those). So I had to uncover some loot from his birthday stash (which he doesn't know about and which I have locked away in the store-room). He got a set of 3 Ferraris which he happily played with in the evening.

Another 2 months before I have to endure vaccination-related trauma again, this time with Y who I know will not calm down so easily :(

A new school year

School has started from Wednesday and this year, Ads stays in school for an hour longer i.e. until 1 pm which means he has lunch at school. There were a couple of reasons I needed him to be out of the house for an extra hour.

a) It gives me an additional dose of one-on-one time with Y.

b) He has lunch at school, which crosses off one major task on my to-do list. Hopefully he will learn better table manners as well by observing other kids.

c) He doesn't come back home starved and half-crazy at Y's lunchtime. Managing two hungry and cranky kids was a nightmare.

Thanks to this new arrangement, he has been coming back home full of beans (the result of a satisfying meal ). The only struggle we have now is to get him to nap. He is clearly transitioning to a no-nap schedule, a fact we exploited to the hilt during our recent vacation.

Now that I have to pack lunch for the little fella, I have been looking for recipes suited to packed lunches and nifty presentation ideas for the same. I stumbled upon the Bento lunch and have been completely sold on the concept. I'm going to try it one of these days.

Thank God the 3s are finally over

We missed the terrible twos. Endured the terrible threes with great difficulty and hope the fours aren't Formidable, Frightening or Fearsome! I took Ads to Costco and bought him a police costume which he was very thrilled with. He wangled a post-lunch ice-cream sandwich from me saying that "How can this be my birthday if there is no cake?!!"

In the evening, we rounded off a quiet 4th birthday with dinner at his favourite restaurant, Sweet Tomatoes, a soup-and-salad bar.

A fun party is over

S and I had to pop a Tylenol before bed last night. What a day it was! Very tiring, very hectic but, in the end, a LOT of fun. I've always had some reservations about my ability to throw and manage a successful party. But all it took is some (ok, a lot!) of hard work and some intense organization over the last couple of weeks. Takeaway: Fun dos are not the perogative of the highly imaginative or the extremely creative (neither of which I am!); plodders like me can do just as well by adopting some party best practices and weaving them all together in an elegant manner (with a little help from Google of course). For example, although we hosted the party in a park (which might seem to preclude the need for organizing any party games and the like), we also sensed the need to keep 15+ kids occupied for 3 hours. Enter juice and fruit to snack on to stave off hunger pangs before lunch and cake; colouring pages to keep the quieter ones happy; individual bubblemakers (always a big hit); a tent for them to wander in and out of (though I would have done better to stock it with some toys); and two organized games which occupied almost half an hour.

The killer app, so to speak, was the venue itself. Agnew is a little-known park tucked away in the heart of Santa Clara, large enough not to feel crowded, but small enough to give the effect of a private space. The 5 picnic tables which we commandeered were in a very shady spot - an oasis of coolness on a hot summer day. The lunch arrived piping hot and delicious. The cake was suitably sickeningly sweet and thickly frosted and therefore a hit with the kids.

We had a ton of help in the form of willing volunteers who shepherded the kids to the games (and kept them there!), cut the cake, picked up and served lunch, clicked the pictures and generally allowed S and me to circulate and speak atleast a few sentences with each guest (quite a challenge considering the large number of people we had invited).

S and I got up bright and early and were at the park at 7.45 am. Santa Clara park tables are not reservable. They are available only on a first-come first-served basis which means that you need to land up early and make sure no one else is there before you. It took us about an hour to do the initial set-up - cleaning the tables, spreading the tablecloths, unpacking the snacks, cutlery, plates etc, and getting started on the decorations. At 8.45, S left to pick up the balloons and also his dad who would stand guard while we rushed back home to get ready and pick up my m-i-l and the kids. The party start time was 10 am and we were about 10 mins late in reaching the park, more than confident that our first guests would not arrive until 10.30 am but we were wrong! Bhavana (a school friend) and her husband and daughter were already there and were instantly at work putting finishing touches to the decorations. By 10.30 as expected, the crowd started to wander in and Ads was running all over the place in a frenzy of excitement. As people greeted him, I found him going straight for the gifts without even saying hello-thank you and I was trying to keep up with him and ensure he displayed some basic manners.

At 11.15 or so we started on the games. I played a bit role mostly on the sidelines while some friends and cousins took the leading roles and managed the unenviable task of keeping a bunch of excited 3-5 year olds in line and organized. The first game was a variation of pinning the tail on the donkey. In keeping with the party's firefighter theme, we tried pinning the badge on the fireman's helmet. Some of the kids were enthused enough to want multiple shots at sticking the badge in the correct place.

The next game was a simple one - we arranged a lot of small goodies on the ground and each kid had to throw a hoop over the goody that they wanted. Each kid was allowed 3 tries. It was hard because the hoop kept bouncing off the ground and anyway most the kiddos obviously had lousy aims. So we ended up asking each kid which gift they wanted, moving that item close to them so that it would be easy for them to throw the hoop over that item. It was hilarious watching my son, Mr. Easy-Way-Out, stand right over the toy car that he wanted, bend down and carefully place the hoop over it!

S was insistent that we get all the kids together with Ads on one side of the table as we cut the cake. He said it "looks very cute". I agreed, but it's a nightmare squeezing 15 or so kids all together on one side of a picnic table. I was actually planning to stay out of the cake-cutting and let my in-laws do the honours. Somehow in the chaotic moments leading up to the grand finale, I found myself right next to Ads and poor S was left out of the picture. He has been a little miffed with me for losing it and leaving him looking like a bystander. I wonder why the cake-cutting ceremony always becomes a little crazy. It's like people get into a sugar-deficient frenzy and start singing "Happy Birthday to you" before the birthday boy or girl is even ready to do their bit.

Anyway, these kind of parties are always a blast. But infinitely exhausting for the parents. Yesterday I thought -" Never again, it's too much work". But I can't deny that I enjoyed myself thoroughly. During one of the games, my camera suddenly died on me. Try as I might, I kept getting all sorts of error messages. Rather than fiddle futilely with it, I decided that I would look at the short cute excited people in front of me and no matter if we don't have pictures - I will imprint the happy memories of that sunny afternoon in my mind. Hopefully Ads will look back fondly at the memories we created yesterday.

And she finally looks like a girl!

Or so we hope. I am getting a little sick of everyone asking me "how old is he?" when talking about Y. We got her ears pierced today and she cried quite a bit, but cheered up pretty quickly once the ordeal was over. She is now wearing a pair of pink daisy-shaped 18k gold earrings.

Party planning

The food has been ordered - rotis, mutter paneer, chole, raita and veg pulao. The cake too, a massive concoction from Costco that is supposed to feed 48 people (white cake with chocolate mousse filling and white buttercream icing) has been ordered (at 18 bucks, it's the cheapest by a long shot and it actually tastes as yummy as anything ordered from another bakery/store). Balloons too have been organized (all we have to do is pick up a dozen or so inflated balloons on the morning of the party). Yesterday S picked up a large carton of water bottles from Costco, as also large bottles of juice and chips to feed the hungry hordes. I have a large suitcase packed with party favors, decorations, cutlery, utensils, party hats and the like. Two simple party games have been planned. Bubblemakers have been purchased. I spent most of Saturday morning wrapping the return gifts and affixing thank-you notes to each gift. I had bought a large carton of paper collage scraps from Michaels and used the beautiful printed sheets of paper to make the Thank you notes.

Now I can just kick back my heels and relax until Saturday - if I could just shake off that feeling that I have forgotten something major!

My movie buff

It's almost a relief when I am left alone in the house with Y. It turns out that those are the only times when I can truly DO NOTHING. Not that I have a choice. I would love to accomplish a few things on my mile-long to-do list but Y ensures that she monopolizes my attention. She has the knack of getting into trouble. Pieces of plastic, scraps of paper, bits of food dropped by Ads which have escaped my notice -- all of these find her way into her mouth. I need to keep an eagle eye on her to ensure that she doesn't choke or strangle herself. Multi-tasker that I am, I tried (and was foiled) at these activities that I tried to do with her around:

1. Reading. She starts clutching at, and tearing the pages of the book/magazine. She is really quick and really good at this. I seldom react quickly enough to prevent the page from being torn, though I have become adept at flicking the papers out of her hand before she swallows it.

2. Working on the laptop. If I sit down at the table, she pulls herself up to a standing position using my leg and wails inconsolably until I pick her up. Once she is within strking distance of the keyboard, all hell breaks loose.

3. Talking on the phone. She doesn't like this. Period.

4. Cooking. What a joke!

5. Laundry. This is actually no problemo, since it takes just a few minutes for an expert like me to throw stuff into the washer. I can definitely distract her for that length of time.

6. Folding clothes. And have her unfold them as rapidly as I fold? No way.

7. Eating. Do-able, as long as I am holding my plate or bowl over my head. No fun for me, as you can imagine.

Funnily enough, the one thing that my cinema-aficionado doesn't mind me doing, is watching a movie. Because she can then watch it with me (yeah yeah I know children under 2 shouldn't watch any TV --which jerk made that one up?). So, when we are alone together, we watch movies! What kind of a mother have I become?

Updates

It has been a crazy busy last couple of months. Between studying (or trying to), starting to hunt for a part-time nanny (no success there), working@ Benetech, managing home and the two kids and now getting started on the planning for Ads 4th birthday party, it appears that I have been running along on some buried reserves of adrenalin.

We celebrate Ads' birthday on the 22nd of August at a park in Santa Clara. We have invited 38 adults and 18 kids. 56 people in all! Since my in-laws leave the country on the 28th, this party is more of a social get-together where they bid goodbye to all the relatives living in the Bay Area. Then there are Ads' school friends, and our friends, all of whom have similarly-aged children whom Ads knows and likes. Two and a quarter years after moving to the Bay Area, we are building up quite a network.

Today Y had her 9-month checkup. The doctor has proclaimed her healthy and possessing very advanced motor skills for her age. But she is still tiny. She is way down the scale in terms of weight but the doctor didn't seem concerned. He claims it's a mix of various factors - racial (South Asians are leaner than Caucasians/Blacks), genetic (he says both parents and sibling are so slim, he doesn't expect Y to be chubby), and the fact that she is super-duper active. Always on the go and burns her calories at a blistering pace. I know I shouldn't be too concerned given that she is a healthy baby but she is in the 2nd percentile in terms of weight. That's ridiculous!!! She started off as a heavier-than average baby so I can't help beating myself over this aspect -- I'm sure that somehow it's all my fault. Mommy-guilt strikes again!!!

Y at 9 mos

Y turned the 3/4th of a year landmark a couple of days ago. She has two teeth and a third one coming in, and today she took her first independent steps -- two of them! It is as thrilling this time around as it was with Ads.