It's all right...

......as I knew it would be. Thanks for all the kind/encouraging words, everybody!!! Ads is doing reasonably well in adjusting to school. We've had a few bouts of crying and feeling rotten over the last few days but now he takes the bus to and from school and has fallen into a routine. What's really helped is that a lot of kids whom he sees three times a week at tennis lessons, also go to the same school, and some of them are even in the same class (although different sections). He has a few kids inside the complex whom he plays with on and off though I am yet to make any dent in the "mommy" network!

A few amusing incidents have taken place over the last fortnight. He goes to tennis coaching 3 days a week, Tuesday through Thursday, after school. There is this girl (from the same school and also in Class I) who was very friendly and super-helpful to him from Day one (when he was crying inside and outside the court). She's sort of become his anchor at tennis lessons and I often see them giggling together and talking (instead of hitting some shots.....waste of all that money, Ads!!!!) One evening, I dropped him off at the court, went back home because Y was still groggy from her afternoon nap and then came down again after an hour to pick him up. I was a few minutes early so I just hung around until he was ready. The kids were all spread out in a line and ready to play some game before the class broke up. The coach was shouting instructions. Ads suddenly hugs and kisses his friend (the girl I mentioned). He spots me, turns pink, and freezes for a couple of seconds. Then, very deliberately and with feigned casualness, he walks far away from her to the other end of the line! How did he learn to feel guilty about his act, and why did he feel the need to cover it up? I'm surprised because I know nothing S and I ever did or said could have contributed to his reaction on seeing my reaction.   Later, at home, he was mortified when I related the incident to my mom and I was laughing. Oops. S was told about it in strict confidence and I threatened him with dire consequences if he mentioned it to Ads. Typical reaction from S when I related this incident - "Tennis starts at Love all".

In the park, I ask him to actively get out there and make friends. I had suggested that he could go up to a kid who looked like his own age and maybe ask him their name, how old they were, and then take the conversation on from there. I don't think he heard the second part of my suggestion because now all he does is go up to a kid and ask him, in a very mechanised, robot-like fashion "What's your name? What's your age?", and then comes scurrying back to me! Pray, what does that achieve? I've asked him to go one step further and ask them if they want to play some game with him. I won't intervene any further with tips because he has to make friends in his own way and there is only so much I can help him. It would help if there were some moms around in the park who would also encourage their kids to play with other kids, but unfortunately I am almost always the only mom around. There are scores of maids sitting around, listening to their ipods, gossiping or talking on the phone. It's very annoying when I see so many of the maids who don't even bother keeping an eye on their wards, whether they are playing nicely, playing safely and not hurting themselves or others.

Forget the maids - do you know that I am now a proud grandmom?? Last weekend, we found Y lying down on the bed and Ads sawing at her stomach with a hacksaw, no less. He performed a quick blood-less C-section on my daughter and out came 2 stuffed toys (a tiger and a teddy bear). Y has named them after her 2 favourite second cousins. She spent a lot of time yesterday everyday feeding them, bathing them and taking care of them; but I think this whole motherhood thing got to her after a while (tell me about it, baby!) and she hasn't spared them a second glance since :)

KIDS. Who needs entertainment when they are around.

Bye-bye and have a nice day. This is Y's standard comment to all and sundry, whatever the time of day and even if nobody is going bye-bye!

Head vs heart

I spent most of my school life being the outsider. The new kid who joined school, often in the middle of the session, when the 'gangs' had already been formed. The kid who hardly ever stayed for more than a year. I had friends, some of whom I am in touch with even now, but until I reached high school, I formed no special attachments, either to school or to people. So I can't relate to people who have friends they've known from kindergarten - it seems utterly strange to me that such a thing could happen! Post- marriage and kids, the scenario hasn't changed all that much and I'm still the perennial outsider - the mom who isn't part of any of the mommy cliques, who has to stand around awkwardly at the bus stop before mustering up the courage to go up to other parents and introduce herself.

So if there is one aspect of life where I can totally empathize with Ads, it is this. I get it - completely. I know exactly how he feels on the first day (or week, or month!) of school - the choking sensation in the throat, the uncomfortable feeling in the chest, the need to go to the bathroom multiple times! I get the misery of not knowing anybody, the urge to have friends but the lack of means to make them, the dire need of burying one's face in amma's stomach and not letting go. I'm actually illogically angry at myself for putting him in the situation where he has to adjust to a new environment every year. 5 years old, and this is his 4th school already. I'm resolved that for the next 3 years (what's the magic in that number? I donno. It seems right though) atleast, we will stay put in Gurgaon and not move him around.

S and I have talked about this and S feels that for a kid as scared of change as Ads is, this experience of constant change, is important. My clear logical brain tells me that he is right. But who is to explain to my heart, that boils over with pain and guilt, every time my darling cries? I know from my own experience that all that shuttling around in the early years didn't do me any harm, however much I may have disliked it at that point in time. In point of fact, it did nothing but a lot of good. 

How much of parenting is just second-guessing and hindsight, sprinkled over with insane amounts of ill-deserved guilt?!!

I did it! (err...she did it?)

You know those moms who tell you that their child got potty-trained in 3 days...or gasp....1 day flat and that was it? I've had many of those mom friends. I've envied them and I've also, oftentimes, thought they were just bluffing. I simply could not believe it, because it was such a Godawful freakishly hard experience to potty-train Ads that accepting that it could be done easily was somehow a testament to my incompetence and nincompoop-ness! I started training Ads when he was 18 months old (proof enough that starting earlier equals finishing later!) and it took more than one and a half years for him to get potty-trained. It was frustrating and exhausting, to say the least. 

I hoped against hope that Y would be easier. So many people had said that girls are easier to potty-train than boys. I am super-duper happy to report that my trooper has potty-trained herself, with little or no input from me,  in just a couple of days!!! Wow....those stories are really true...:) She's still in diapers when we go out and when she sleeps but I notice she's always dry so she looks like she's ready for a diaper-free existence as soon as I can locate that plastic sheet I'd kept aside for just this purpose :)

Why do I feel like I've achieved something when in fact all I've done is clap and cheer a few times?!!!

Another summer begins...

I managed to squeeze in a heavy-duty viral infection within the first week of moving to the new apartment. After being mostly prone for 2 days, I was back on my feet and racking the brains about how to keep the kids occupied and busy during the two weeks of summer break (Ads starts school next week). Inspiration and motivation came in the form of some amazing ideas from Gorgeous Karma, who is one amazing crafty mom. The first project we tried out was the Leaves and Crayon collage. Ads took a few minutes to get the hang of it, but then got pretty excited as he captured the veins, big and small, of each leaf. The end result, as you can see, is pretty :)

We did a lot of vegetable painting, with cauliflowers, carrots and green peppers, even onions. I made them do this on thin scrapbook paper, with the idea of using it as home-made wrapping paper. A nice touch to any gift!

They did some finger painting and painting with brushes and poster colours too.

The big challenge I have is to devise activities that would engage them for atleast an hour. I haven't hit that magic figure yet :( No art project which involves both the kids ever stretches beyond 30 minutes, and that's the absolute outer limit. If I leave Ads to his own devices then he can amuse himself with books, legos, drawing, puzzles or other toys for a substantial period of time. But then Y keeps popping in to see what he is doing, scribbling on his work, rearranging the puzzle, pushing the blocks etc etc - leading to enraged howls and shrieks! It's practically impossible for me to sit down with Ads for any activity that requires any concentration, because of Y's constant interruptions. Making him read, making him write, playing board games, or reading any non-fiction book to him are big no-nos because I can never focus on him alone. I feel like I'm shortchanging him and at the same time, involving Y in only the 'big-brother' activities seems unfair too! What I really seem to need is 2 heads and 4 arms so that I can attend to both their needs :)

Lest anyone get the idea that we were always productively and happily employed, let me state for the record how I just left them to their own devices when I needed a break from the two monsters angels. They managed to be at each other's throats most of the time. Every now and then, they would give me a pleasant surprise by concocting their own silly games and rushing around shouting and laughing :)

The graduate

We'd been practicing the kindergarten speech for so long without being totally certain that Ads was even going to attend his graduation that I once asked him directly if he would mind if he missed it. He didn't seem to care one way or the other. In hindsight, considering how awesome it turned out to be, I'm glad we didn't move to Gurgaon a week earlier, I'm glad that S attended it (even though I missed it), and I'm so very glad Ads got to be there, robe and all, and pick up his graduation scroll from the Principal :)

Now - a disclaimer. All this while, I've thought the whole fuss about KG graduation, elementary and middle-school graduation, which is part and parcel of school life in the US (perhaps in other western countries too, but I'm not sure) was all so much hogwash. Absurd, even. It seemed to be an excuse for promoting mediocrity. I mean - you're supposed to study hard and pass on from one grade to the next. That's your job as a student. Why make a big song and dance about it? And it also seemed to me to take away from the final high school graduation, which of course is a big deal; especially in countries where a lot of people don't go on to college. However I suppose I'm hypocrite enough to support songs-and-dances as long as my kid is involved ;-) Perhaps for little boys and girls, it's a nice way to transition them to 'big' school. And as S wryly observes, for all the money that we are shelling out for tuition and other extras, the school better put on a show for our benefit!
Ads spoke his rehearsed few lines very well, and thankfully, my camera-ignorant husband managed to get a good video of it. Father and son had a sumptuous lunch at school and clicked a few pictures including one with Ads very wonderful class teacher. Father in particular really lucked out that day because he left home just as the packers arrived and returned after they had left. The mayhem in between was unimaginable. 6 guys - all in different rooms - throwing our stuff randomly into cartons, no labelling being done on any of the boxes, mattresses being dragged all over the common areas in the dust and dirt without any packing, and Y whining incessantly. I was close to tears. I'd planned ahead and asked one of my maids to come in around 9 and take Y to the park so that I could focus on the packing. Guess what happened. The maid walked in two hours late. I couldn't even yell at S because I had insisted on him going to school. The last straw was when one of the guys managed to pack the pulao that I had cooked at 5 am that day, along with the raita that accompanied it!!!!!!! The imbecile apparently didn't notice the two fat ladles sticking out of the pans. This was the same fellow who also managed to tear the legs off from my computer table so he was both clumsy and not very bright.
Go ahead and call it plain stupidity on my part to have volunteered to do this by myself with Y around to provide backing vocals :) Sometimes I just think I'm so smart and capable and bite off more than I can chew. Finally, the moving guys left, we handed over the flat keys, stopped by for a quick goodbye to the folks at Y's school, and headed down the highway for Gurgaon. It was only when we were halfway there that I remembered to ask Ads how the graduation went. By which time he was fast asleep!
So that was our moving day. Pure nightmare from start to finish (for me). I'm not posting about how we worked round the clock to get the new house up and running in 2 days flat. What was the tearing hurry, you may ask? None whatsoever. We just wanted to be done with it. And to prove we could :) The A-type personality lurking within us comes to the fore every now and then ;-)

The butterfly

Founder's day at Y's school and Y's role as a butterfly in her first ever public performance at the ripe young age of 2 years and 3 months = a red-letter day for us. Her costume was a yellow and blue affair - a halter-neck blouse and a frilly skirt. She paired it with a pair of black tights and sparkly yellow shoes and I sent her off on the school van on the day of the function. S, Ads and I followed an hour later, agog to see our princess on stage. Have I mentioned before what a lovely serene place Y's school (I should say ex-school now) is? Low buildings surrounding a large lawn flanked with lots and lots of trees and saplings. A duck and geese-pond as soon as you enter. A couple of gazebos where rabbits frolic. A good chance that you will spy their resident peacock. A walk-in aviary. A hen-house and a birdhouse. Stone sculptures of animals dotted all over the place, which children can climb and play on. It's paradise, no two ways about it and my enduring regret will be that Y could not spend atleast another year in that special place. However, we got to experience it for a few months and I am thankful for that.

Y's performance was the second one and consisted of about 10 2-year olds dancing to the well-known Hindi song, which I remember parroting at school when I was a baby myself - Kisne banaya phoolon ko.....ishwar sab mein hai. The song talks about God who made the leaves, butterflies, birds, flowers, mummy, daddy, you and me; so each kid was dressed up as one of these creations of God. Oh my God (pun intended), they were all so unbearably cute!!!!! It was heartbreaking. Y was right in the front, along with 2 other butterflies. They had stuck a large pair of polka-dotted wings on her back and some antennae on her head. The antennae kept falling forward onto her glasses and she had to keep pushing them back :) She did a decent job of miming. Every now and then she would forget what she had to do and just stop and stare into the audience. Then she would look at the girl who was next to her (and who, incidentally was awesome - a born performer) and start copying her. All the other kids were in the same age group that is, the babies of the school - between 18 to 30 months old. Some were crying for their mom/dad and had to be either whisked off the stage (if inconsolable), or else cajoled into staying put by the concerned parent kneeling clumsily in front of the stage and shouting bright words of encouragement! Later on, Y's teacher told me what a big achievement it is for kids of that age to simply get out there and do something - anything - rather than cry to be let off. She's right of course. I can't imagine being all of 2 years old, dressed in something uncomfortable and asked to dance in front of a few scores of people under dazzling lights.
I don't have pictures of Y from that day. The school asked that the parents not click their own photos since the small kids would get distracted and distressed if they spotted their parents in the crowd. They were supposed to give us the photos clicked by the school photographer. I'm a little bummed because I can't wait to share the photos with friends and family but apparently we have to wait until April for the pics. C'mon....nobody told them that the world has gone digital?????
She looked so vulnerable and small on stage. A little lost, a little confused, but bravely plodding on, doing what she was supposed to. She didn't smile or have the easy confidence of her neighbour. She was just a 2 year old baby searching for her family in the audience, in between executing a few dance steps. All I wanted to do was to rush up there and fold her into my arms; however that impulse was successfully resisted and I watched her with pride, joy, awe and just plain love. What emotions these kids can excite in us silly parents!!!!

The Best part of Parenting - NYT article

It's been crazy-busy over here. But we are all moved, and set, and I have been sick as a dog. Until I update with all the happenings in Mommyland, here's an article I read today, and loved. I particularly liked a few things that the author said:

You could read human progress through the tears. The tears of a baby are often a reflex, for a toddler almost always the fruit of frustration or fatigue. The tears of a child begin to be the tears of knowledge. The older heart is more breakable.

So true!

And this:

I regret being pinkslipped from my 24/7 Mom job, although there were times over the years when I thought the inexorability of it would kill me. But it’s hard to imagine anything better than right now: the family dinner with the five of us, all talking about politics, books, work, friends, and one another. It’s hard to imagine anything better than three smart and insightful people who live in the same city we do, who make me remember that there was a point to the whole exercise, and the point was this.

So, there IS a point....that gives me hope! I was beginning to wonder *wink*.

Important lesson learnt

I did something really silly today. It was 9 am and there were 4 of us at home - Y, S, the maid and yours truly. Y had school today only from 3-6 pm so she was not heading out for the school van as she usually is at that time. Instead she was all dressed, breakfasted and playing with her toys. S and the maid left at almost the same time. A few minutes later, the bell rang. Our milk had arrived. While opening the door, I noticed that the maid had not thrown out the trash bags. I was slightly annoyed with her for her oversight and without really thinking, I stepped out to deposit the trash bags in their  designated place near the staircase (where the housekeeping guys pick it up later in the morning).

Now the thing with our front door is that it's one of those doors with the Godrej automatic locks that you find in most apartments nowadays. However, it's a much abused door; a few months ago, we had to break the lock on it as the key was getting jammed all the time; it also doesn't have a stopper (Y broke it!). The point is, that unlike most of these automatic doors, it doesn't close on its own. In fact every time we step out, we have to exert a fair amount of strength to prise it shut and turn the key in the lock. I knew all this and at the back of my mind, it also registered (dimly) that I didn't have my key and my cellphone with me when I stepped out, but I knew that the door wouldn't shut on its own and what the heck, I was outside the flat for precisely 5 seconds.

I know you know where this story is going :(

Imagine my shock when I turned back to the house, and I swear I wasn't away for more than 5 seconds, and I found that the door was firmly locked! Y was just inside the door because she had followed me when the doorbell rang. Sheer panic. Immediately I ran to the neighbour's place and asked to use their phone. There was so much static on the mobile line that I couldn't even figure out if S's phone was ringing or not. I used their landline to call S and asked him to come back home immediately since he has the only other spare key. Thankfully, on this day of all days, our car had a flat tyre and he hadn't even left the complex. 

I kept talking to Y who was bemused at all the commotion. She didn't realize what had happened.

I shudder to think what might have been. Generally, by 9 am, my cooking for the day is in full swing and I could have had the gas on. S could have left for Gurgaon and taken forever to reach home. We would have had to break down the door. 

I'm still beating myself over my carelessness. I know we all do stupid things, but that doesn't stop mommy guilt from rearing it's ugly head :( 

Baby lisping

Aren't Tantra t-shirts the cutest??? I'm so glad they have children's sizes!!! This is a new one I picked up for Y recently.

Last evening, after dinner, the kids and I were talking. Each one perched on one of my thighs (very painful!). Anyway, as we were chatting, Y said the word sweater in some context. The only thing is, she pronounced it, as she always does, as fetter. I asked her to say some other words starting with the sound sw.

Sweat. She said fet.

Swot. fot.

Swim. fim.

Swindon. findon.

Swat. fat.

Ads and I couldn't stop laughing and Y was very happy to have been the cause of so much merriment. Ads' peals of laughter were cut off abruptly when I asked him to say Rallies. He said - Yallies. I said - Oh you mean Yallies? He was enraged - No amma, I said YALLIES!!! I said - Never mind Ads I love the way you say yallies instead of rallies. He was almost in tears (time for me to shut up and stop laughing, I thought!) - Amma I didn't say yallies, I said yallies!

:)))

Now I'm posting recipes!

We're pretty healthy eaters in our household. I keep trying out a lot of new stuff in the kitchen and my mantra has always been quick-fix, healthy meals. I'm not a great cook (just average) and I can't stand around slaving in the kitchen for hours so what I really love are the "one-pot" meals where you throw everything into a pot, switch on the gas/electric cooker and 20 minutes later, it's all done! Pongal, pulao, veg noodles, veg casserole - anyone? So - I've been thinking for a while that I should post some of the new recipes I try out, on this blog. Just so that I remember them myself, if nothing else :)

Yesterday we had my tried-and-trusted staple - the veg paratha with a simple moong dal on the side. I think I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I've made a traditional paratha - y'know - the aloo, the gobi, the mooli ones? Most of the time, my parathas are a medley of several things and not just one vegetable. Yesterday, I wanted to use up a lot of cilantro (coriander) that has been lying in the fridge. There was also some leftover arhar (tuar) dal. I also threw some pumpkin (cubed) into the pressure cooker. I don't know why but it was an inspired choice, as it turned out. In the mixer, I ground jeera, shredded ginger, 2 green chillies, the arhar dal, lots of coriander leaves, along with some salt and milk (the things that went into that paratha!). After the pumpkin was done, I ground that too along with all the other stuff. Poured the whole thing into wheat flour and mixed it really well. The parathas came out so soft that it was a pleasure to eat them, even plain. I suspect the pumpkin made all the difference to the texture. 

My other favourite is the beetroot paratha. The beetroot has to be grated beforehand. Saute it with jeera, red chilli powder or green chillies, salt, coriander (if you like) and ginger. Stuff into the dough and roll it out and cook. It's yummy! Unless you like the slightly sweet taste of this paratha, you might want to add a little extra salt and spice to compensate. Or one could balance it with a spicy side-dish or chutney. The sweetness of it works just fine for us because the kids can't take spicy food anyway. This paratha also looks very appealing - brown with red and green spots due to the beetroot and coriander :) I'll try and post some pictures next time I make this.

Moving and movies

I've been feeling a little low lately. Partly, it's the impending move. Gurgaon is going to be the 6th city we've lived in, after our wedding in 2000; and we are moving to our 7th apartment. The whole process of packing, moving, setting up in a new place has lost some of it's allure! Partly, it's the first time I am really feeling a wrench at moving. One year ago, if someone had told me I'd feel depressed about leaving Noida, I'd have laughed in their face! But I really like it here. We have a few friends in the complex, I know where everything is, both the kids are in fabulous schools and it just seems like we're giving up a good thing to go 40 kms away and start all over again. Of course, there's no option because the 4-hour round commute every single day is killing S, but the very novel emotion of missing a city/place is contributing to my low mood. 

In addition, the looming exams are stress-inducing and the move at this time is taking up a huge chunk of my time and energy. It's been a long time since I took an exam and I think I've just lost confidence in my ability to  crack a test. The doomsday scenario - of having to repeat a year - is giving me sleepless nights. 

Ok folks, I'm just venting here - I am not the type to worry too much about anything but some days, I get all wound up and crazy! I reacted to the stress by watching three movies over the last week - The King's Speech, Vicky Christina Barcelona and The kids are all right. The last one was okay but I'm still wondering why it was in the running for an Oscar. Vicky Christina is actually the first Woody Allen movie I've seen and I loved it. And The King's Speech - brilliant. Watching films is not exactly the best way to pass exams as I'm sure you'll agree :) But now I'm feeling better for having gotten some R&R and all set to hit the books amidst the cartons and bubble wrap!

What has Ads been upto?

Over the last few weeks, Ads has been taking tiny steps to independence. He's been walking to tennis lessons (inside our complex) all by himself. It's a different matter that if he doesn't see me waiting outside the court 5 minutes before the end of the lesson, he bursts into tears! A couple of times, I have been really rushed in the morning and have asked him to start walking to the bus stop and I will catch up with him in a few minutes, and he's done that quite cheerfully. Anybody who knows Ads knows that these little steps mean a whole lot to him. It's taken him almost a year of staying in this complex and getting familiar with it, to even start attempting such feats. He also had his first sleepover last weekend, at his best friend's place, which is also in the same compound.

I have been sitting with him for half an hour everyday, getting him to read. It's been a little bit of a challenge because I am not a good or patient teacher. And English is an illogical infuriating language! I always remember Dharmendra's dialogue in Chupke Chupke - "If B-U-T is but then why is P-U-T put?" It's so easy for the child to forget a new word he learnt only yesterday and it takes constant reinforcement to get him to remember it and pronounce it correctly. We started with the Bubbles and Bruno books which a friend very kindly lent us, some stuff on the Internet but now I have graduated him to more advanced books. They have a lot more words that he doesn't know but I figured he can just read what he knows and the rest I will read for him. Maybe he'll get a jumpstart on the bigger words that way.

He doesn't enjoy reading as much as he enjoys doing little sums - addition and subtraction. The Tam-bram engineering/mathematical genes are on full display! Over the summer, I plan to get him to read more. His teacher told me to start him on multiplication tables which they will be doing in Grade I. My mom has already identified an art class for him in Chennai. Not to mention the field visits that eager grandparents have lined up for him. The fella is going to have a jam-packed summer!

NGMA, Anish Kapoor and a new experience for Ads

We spent a few hours at the National Gallery of Modern Art yesterday. I've heard good things about it and been wanting to go for a few weeks, and then we realized that the Anish Kapoor exhibition was about to end this weekend. We couldn't miss an exhibition of an artist of his stature, so off we went - the four of us and Sanjay's cousin who was spending the day with us. I want to expose Ads to a lot of art and make him understand a few things. One, there is no "one" or "right" kind of art. Any expression of an individuals' thoughts or emotions is a legitimate work of artistry. Two, the exercise of just soaking in the beautiful expression of someone's creativity and making our own interpretation of it's meaning is pleasurable in itself. Three, we need to be alive to the beauty that is all around us, be it in the stunning flowers at the Mughal Gardens (where we went last weekend) or in the asymmetrical shapes and disorienting forms of modern sculpture.

I'm beginning to be cognizant of the fact that a major part of a parent's nurturing role is to nourish the mind and spirit just as much as to nourish the body. Maybe even more. Exposing a child to new experiences and perspectives that broaden and challenge his thinking - isn't that a critical part of what we should be doing? Ads was gratifyingly compliant with our attempts to make sense of Anish Kapoor. He would go up to each model or sculpture and ask me "What do you think this is, amma?". I would flip the question back at him and he would say something - very prosaic but that's not the point. The point is that I think he dimly understood that space and form had been manipulated to create new definitions of space and form, and he may or may not like it but its there and it's intriguing, ambiguous and somewhat surreal.

After this introduction to modern art, we slipped over to the cafeteria for a quick pick-me-up (juice) for the kids and then proceeded to the main wing of the NGMA. Which was HUGE. S and I really need to go back again to do justice to the lovely works they had up on the wall. Ads liked Jamini Roy, mostly because he had a few Krishna paintings up there :) There was a stunning one of Arjuna and Krishna by Nandalal Bose. The main wing was 4 levels and a lot of walking and we got the executive summary only! Y was walking around like an art pro, holding (and occasionally reading), the NGMA brochure which she was holding in her hand :)

It was a lovely afternoon. I'm enjoying more than anything else, this attempt to open up Ads' mind to new fresh things. It may or may not have any impact; he's too young and there are going to be other major influences in his life. But I'm doing my job and this is one aspect of parenting I'm really enjoying.

Next stop - an intro to all the major religions. That's going to be a big project!

Cowboy Joe

So - sports day at Ads' school. Or as they called it - Gusto - Field Day. Back when I was a small kid, which really, was not all that long ago (!), sports days were simple affairs. You had to take part in some races (egg-and-spoon, sack, plain and simple running, one-legged). You sometimes had to wear the white PT uniform complete with while canvas shoes and take part in a drill and marchpast. 1-2-3-4! The only "costume" you needed was maybe a few ribbons or a sash denoting the colour of the house you belonged to. You stood or ran in the sun for hours, drank some water, ate the packed tiffin from home, and tumbled into the bus for the ride back home. 

Now, they are elaborate orchestrated affairs, complete with specific themes, detailed costumes (for which I coughed up a few hundreds), umpteen rehearsals, and one helluva effort put in by the teachers. I doff my hat to them for all the initiative and creativity on display (and the fact that they didn't ask me to roam all over town to scout for costumes but instead made a bulk purchase!). Ads has been talking about sports day for the last month. He was selected to take part in a cowboy dance. Cotton eye Joe by Rednex - anybody remember that super-catchy song? He came home bearing his costume - battledress pants, cream full-sleeved shirt with a brown fringe waistcoat, a red satin cravat and a cowboy hat!
Saturday came around - a lovely, sunny day - and Y, S and I trooped to the school. Ads had left home an hour earlier. We sat on the front row and watched the marchpast, the musical drills and races, marvelling at the cute kids and their colourful costumes, entertained all the while by the running commentary by 2 teachers. They actually had 10 girls who were cheerleaders!!! After every routine, they would jump and dance on the field with their pom-poms. They did a wonderful job, but I have a major mental block when it comes to cheerleading, even when it is just a bunch of cute 5-year olds. The references (by the teacher-emcees) to the IPL cheerleaders seemed to me to be in poor taste. I'm sure I will have very mixed feelings if Y ever told me she wanted to cheerlead!
Ads cowboy dance was almost the last routine, and it was very very good. The steps and the synchronization were amazing. The funny thing was that just before the dance, S and I were trying to locate Ads. It was extraordinarily difficult to pick him out from a gaggle of some 60-odd boys, all dressed identically!! We finally found him and waved frantically until he responded and waved back, with equal gusto. 5 minutes later, he moved closer to us...whoa....he was some other kid!!! The joke was that S had actually zoomed in through the camera and confidently confirmed to me that it was indeed Ads :) So much for identifying our own child!
So what happened was that the dance had started as we tried to find out where Ads was, and we didn't manage to locate him until  the very end. By the time I ran towards him with the camera, the boys had done a smart about-turn and started marching away. Later, at home, I found that I had inadvertently clicked a snap of his without knowing that he was in the frame ;-)
It seems like he had fun, which is the important thing. Today I met his class teacher and she told me how, of all the kids in her class, she and the choreographer had to work the hardest on Ads because the dance and the steps did not come naturally to him. Apparently he danced well.......what do you know........we never saw it :(

The parent's revenge

I was watching them, secretly (as always); and Ads shouted at Y in sheer frustration: "Will you please stop talking for ONE SECOND?!!!"

I almost fell off the sofa, I was laughing so hard and Ads was so mad at me. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and every time it does, I react in the same way. With delight. That Ads is being paid back in spades for all the incessant talking that he plagued us with for four years.

In fact, he's now a lot quieter than Y who talks non-stop. To me, S, Ads, the maids, and to the walls and imaginary conversations on the phone when no one is listening (which is most of the time!). But most of the time, she talks to her brother, and expects a response and that drives him nuts especially when he is concentrating on his drawing. I know how it feels when someone talks so much that you can't hear yourself think. Ads is going through that now.

I'd spare some sympathy for him, if I wasn't so busy gloating.....

Sweet revenge. It feels good.

Ta-daa!

Unveiling Y's new look......

I quite like it. It's kinda retro-hip. Sort of like Preity Zinta's look in Kal Ho Na Ho, also Rani's in NOKJ? She's been good (so far, though it's early days yet) about wearing the glasses.

The verdict is a power of +4. The doc was very optimistic about the prospects for both squint and number correction. We go back in 6 weeks for a re-evaluation to check how well the glasses have been working and also whether one eye squints more than the other (in which case the stronger eye will need to be patched up under the glasses). We will also get a better handle on the time-frame for squint correction. As far as the power goes, the doc said it should come down to zero between the ages of 5 and 10, and this happens in a vast majority of cases involving kids. It appears that the situation could have been a lot less rosy if the number had been negative.

So that's the update on those beautiful eyes. Some interesting reactions/comments have already been coming my way regarding her glass-wearing - will save them up to share in a separate blog post! :)

Statistics

Finally, finally - Y has started sleeping through the night. I hardly realized it until a couple of days ago, when I recalled that I had been sleeping uninterrupted for a few days. No night-time wakings, bawlings, diaper-changings, water-fetchings....Unlike other, wiser and smarter mothers, I never sleep-trained my kids, and the result has been a massive sleep deficit for me. I complied some stats in my head. Since August 2005, I have spent:

6 months dealing with colic;

45 months (~4 years) being sleep-deprived and getting less than 8 hours of beauty sleep (witness the dark shadows and circles under the eyes);

39 months (~3.3 years) breastfeeding;

36 months (1.5 years) being a working mom;

46 months (~4 years) on the other side of the fence, as a SAHM;

24 months (2 years) studying, trying to study, panicking because I haven't studied, frustrated because they didn't allow me to study - in general trying becoming a nervous wreck.

If someone had shown me these numbers 6 years ago, who knows what might have happened, but I sure as hell wouldn't be writing this blog because there would be no kids to write about!

Let me end with the standard enconium of kids being the delight of my heart, joy of my life and all that :)

Two headaches less

Two major to-dos have been ticked off the relocation list. First, the apartment - check. A nice complex, a stone's throw from a metro station, and just off the main 'mall' road of Gurgaon. I haven't counted, but I think there are atleast 10 malls, all jostling for space next to each other, down that road. Definitely a mall-rat's Mecca, but for a mall-o-phobic like me, a plain disgusting sight. Oh well, atleast Haldiram's is a stone's throw away and visitors to our place can always go shopping if they're too bored. The complex has a tennis court, swimming pool, a (really nice) children's play area, a (tiny) gym, and is on a quiet residential street.

Second, the school - check. We interviewed at only one school, which is a new (international) school, only about 5-6 years old. People who have their kids there are happy and the online reviews that I read were also largely very positive. We took a school tour and it seemed very similar to the one Ads goes to currently, so we were hoping we would get in. And we did. We also toured another international school, which is an IGCSE school based on the Montessori method. While I really liked it, S had his own reservations regarding whether Montessori kids can cope with the mainstream system later in life. I couldn't convince him. Truth be told, I didn't try too hard since it was quite a bit more expensive than the first school, and we weren't willing to pay that much.

So. Coming back to the first school. Ads starts in the 1st week of April, in Grade I. The whole admission process was interesting. After the school tour, we met the 'Public Relations Officer' who gave us some gyan on the school. She asked both of us, individually, to fill out a long questionnaire, in order to understand our 'value systems' and 'parenting philosophy'. I don't remember all of the questions, but they ran something along these lines.

What is your life's motto?

What is your vision for yourself, and for your child?

What do you look for in a school for your child?

How do you enforce discipline in your home?

What are the 2 most important values you want to instill in your child?

How can schools and parents work together to create the best environment and opportunities for the child?

How do you define 'quality'? How do you create 'quality' in your child?

There was a father's questionnaire, and a mother's questionnaire. S and I kept comparing notes to see that we weren't writing in complete opposition to each other! I also told S that I was memorizing my answers so that I would remember what rubbish I wrote, in case the Principal asked me :)

A week later, we had an 'interaction' with the Principal. It was just a nice informal chat. She asked us some questions on our background and tried to see what kind of expectations we have from this school and the education system in general. I also think she was gauging whether we are the kind of parents she wants to have in her school, though she wouldn't admit it if we dragged her over hot coals. I'm pretty certain a lot of these new schools cater to, and actively solicit, a certain kind of student profile. In short, they want parents like us. Well-educated, articulate, in good jobs in the corporate sector. It may be unfair but it's true. It's also true that this is why parents like us prefer going to such schools, because we know we have a very good shot at getting in, unlike the better-known ones like DPS, Amity and Shriram, which have more applicants than they know what to do with. Every day, I see an article in the newspapers about parent's woes in getting admission for their kids in Delhi. Fortunately, Noida and Gurgaon have more supply than demand and the situation here isn't as crazy as in the city. 

I liked the low-pressure admission process in this school, and in other similar schools. At no point did we feel like supplicants begging for a seat. I know that as these schools become better-known, they also become more snooty in their attitude. A few years down the line, it might not be as easy getting a seat in this school. But for now, that's one headache off my list. Cheers.

Ad-lib #5

Some of the recent questions/comments courtesy Ads.

Amma, what is a soul? I actually thought he meant 'sole'! Yeah. I'm that mundane.

Hanuman is everywhere, even if you don't believe in him. He's standing right there next to you, Amma. Yikes. Spooky!

There are 2 Indias. One is rich and the other is poor. Atta-boy for getting this miserable fact into your psyche this early in life.

Why is our driver poor? Why does he have to drive other people's cars? Why doesn't he have a car of his own? Is he richer than Shanti (our maid) or poorer?
In case anybody is wondering how I answered the first question, well....... I didn't! He asked me as we were waiting for the school bus to arrive and I neatly side-stepped the question by spotting the school bus just in time. Whew :) I also referred him to the in-house spiritual consultant - my dad!

She's only 2! and an eye problem

Sometime in December, we noticed that Y had a mild squint. Her eyes have always been perfectly focussed, so it was a surprise. Ads had an apparent squint when he was a baby, a condition caused by his eye being too tiny for his eyeballs (he could easily pass as a Thai or Singaporean baby!), which gave the impression that he was squinting when in fact he was not. We thought (and hoped) that Y might have the same condition, and the opthamologist that we took her to in Chennai agreed that it might be the case. She said the bridge of Y's nose was unusually broad, and if we took the trouble to press it gently several times a day, we might see an improvement (and I always thought this treatment was just something the paatis made up!)

There hasn't been any improvement since we got back to Noida, and in fact it's more noticeable now, so I fixed an appointment with a pediatric opthamologist and off Y and I went for the consultation. She dismissed the apparent squint theory. Y has a squint, period. The doc suspects her eyes may be weak as well. I'm to go back in a few days after commencing a 3-day course of ointments to dilate her eyes. Her number will be checked, and then we'll discuss options.

S was travelling when all this happened and when I updated him, he was very upset. A far cry from my reaction which was anxious but definitely not upset/worried. I tend to look at the bright side. Yes, obviously it would have been better if, (as the doc predicts may be the case) she didn't have weak eyes and didn't have to wear glasses etc. However, I am relieved we detected this issue at an early stage and let's go ahead and correct it. We are lucky to live in an age where almost anything can be treated. We are even luckier to have the resources to get the necessary treatment done. I was remarking to S about one of the didis at Y's school, who has a very pronounced squint and extremely weak eyes. The poor lady does not have the money to get her eyes fixed. So, really, what have we to complain about?

S retorted "But she's only 2!!" That brought me up short. Yes, indeed she's a shade over 2. ONLY. It's always a little astonishing when I face this fact. The thing with Y is, we've always treated her as though she's a couple of years older than her actual age. At 3 months, she was lying on my lap as I sat on a sidewalk in freezing SFO, watching the Chinese New Year parade. At 5 months, she was on a road trip along California's Big Sur, the first of many road trips in 2010. She crawled at 6 months, walked at 9 months, dropped her Anna off to school everyday, went grocery shopping, play-dating, and was present at most of Anna's swimming and gym lessons. Somewhere down the line, I started thinking she was just a year or so younger than Ads :)

So we wait with fingers crossed for Tuesday, and we'll see what the doc has to say. Hope it's nothing serious!!

Link to another blog post

I had to post this because it is so brilliantly hilarious! For parents, of course :)
http://aiminglow.com/2011/01/get-this-potty-started/

Ads and tennis

Ads started tennis lessons some time ago. This is a fairly good program run by the Mahesh Bhupathi Tennis Academy, right here in our complex. Let me admit I don't know first-hand that it's a good program, just that other parents who are more experienced with their kids learning tennis, seem to be happy with it, so I am relying on what they say. What I did like is that the 3 coaches (head coach, assistant coach and recently a fitness coach) are all young, friendly and seem to genuinely like what they do. The whole environment for mini-tennis is non-pressurizing which is the way I want it. The goal is to get Ads to run around and gain some hand-eye coordination, not necessarily be a good tennis player. If the latter happens, it's a huge bonus.

The operative word is if. Ads is good-humouredly disinterested in tennis. In fact, he is disinterested in most organized games. Ask him to go to the park and play, and he will lie on the monkey bars for hours imagining himself to be Ben-10 fighting aliens. All in his mind! He will run around and play hide and seek, tag etc with friends, quite happily. But anything a little structured and organized bores him. As he asked me once, "Amma, I want to be a doctor, so why should I learn how to play tennis?"

In his class of 6-7 kids, he's the smallest, and let me say it out loud, the worst! Not because he's the smallest, but because he simply doesn't care to try and do better. Plain unadulterated disinterest. I had noticed it in his gym classes in the US when he was 3-4 years old. He wouldn't pay attention to instructions. He would run vaguely in the general direction where all the other kids were running. On reaching the gym equipment, he would try and creatively bypass it altogether. If that didn't work, he would try to climb it or hang from it, in a supremely lacklustre way. Finally he would head back to the starting position, relieved that the ordeal was over :) 

He does the same in tennis class. Ever so often, I hear the coach calling out "Advaith! Listen to me!". I've even seen the coach turn Ads' face to face him (the coach) because he was clearly not listening. Towards the end of the class, they have 15 minutes of games. While the other kids get stressed out over which team 'wins' or 'loses', our hero is waiting on the sidelines, faintly scornful (I think!) of this competitive mentality and quite unconcerned when one of the older kids berates him for making them lose the game by not running fast enough.

I was a late bloomer into sports, only in my teens. When I did start, I loved playing badminton, throwball and tennikoit and for the last few years of school, they were a source of great enjoyment to me. I hope that Ads starts enjoying sports at some point, all by himself, as I did. We won't push him into sports, that's for sure, so it has to come from within. Having said that, I want him to continue with tennis (and swimming in the summer) just to get that little body more agile and coordinated. In the meantime, I continue to watch with amusement, a frustrated coach yelling "Advaith! Look at me!". Better him than me :)

Love the winter, but the insulation sucks and some other cribs

Dilli ki sardi. How many times had I heard people talking about it with varying degrees of wistfulness and nostalgia? We experienced it for the first time (as adults) in 2010/11 and boy, did it live up to expectations! Mostly bright sunny days, fabulous for sitting on the balcony and dining al fresco. Y and I (who are the only people at home for lunch) invariably have a picnic lunch on the sun-soaked balcony, sitting on my yoga mat :) Getting dressed up in tights, smart coats and scarves and feeling like a fashionista :) Never having to sweat and enjoying brisk evening walks. Yes it was horribly cold and foggy and miserable between Xmas and Sankranti but overall, it's been just a fantastic season. 

My only crib during the season - why are the apartments so poorly insulated? There have been many days when I actually felt colder inside the flat than outside! Why do builders cut corners when it comes to this very important aspect of construction? You build a 500-unit condominium complex, and the quality of construction is so poor. Owners (and renters like us) complain of seepage issues, flaking distemper, poor insulation and many other issues. Another thing - there's a fancy clubhouse with gym and pool and all the works, yet the gym has all of 3 treadmills. For 500+ units! Granted, the occupancy rate is something like 80% but still, isn't 3 treadmills a little too miserly? Don't even get me started on the rusted and broken-down play equipment in the children's park. What about just having some nice, easy-to-maintain plastic stuff that won't injure my children?

It's almost like the builder set out to build something really good, but at the last lap, just got utterly bored and said: Screw it. Let's finish and leave this project. I guess they just cut corners (and of course, they are not the only ones) wherever they could and the poor consumers just live with it.

Is this symptomatic of India itself? All flashy and India shining outside, but the rot inside is deep and stultifying.

Artistic Ads

I posted these 2 photos on facebook recently, to rave reviews. The first one is Rama and the second one is Arjuna. 

These aren't even Ads' best work. He only draws mythological characters nowadays (he went through a fire-truck phase, followed by Buzz LightYear and Ben10 fixations, now it is Amar Chitra Katha).The first time he draws something, for example the Narsimha avatar of Vishnu, he will copy from one of his many ACKs. The next time onwards, he captures from memory. He rarely does what most of us do - draw an outline with pencil and then colour it in, although the Arjuna above is one of those. Such is his confidence that he draws straight with colour pencils or crayons.The other interesting aspect of his drawing is the speed. We met with the principal of one of the Gurgaon schools recently (for an 'interaction') and she played right into his hands by asking him to draw something while she spoke to us. He drew the famous scene from the Bhagwad Gita, in 5 minutes flat. 

I've been told I should put him in art class. I think I will, maybe after we move. There's a definite talent here. Atleast we won't be pouring money down the sink, which we seem to be doing with his tennis lessons! That's another post, though :)

My name is Nkta

Nkta. That's how Y pronounces her name. Start with a nasal N, rapidly followed by KTA. Reminds me and S of difficult Vietnamese names such as Nguyen!

The road to fitness

I don't make new year resolutions (I mean, what's the point? I never keep them) but this year I kind of informally resolved (didn't want to put any pressure on myself!) to do better, a LOT better, in the staying healthy department. I've always been a healthy eater and able to stay at my ideal weight without any effort. The latter does not reflect any credit to me but is primarily a function of my mother's fantastic genes. For this, I am grateful every single day :)

The problem with being naturally slim (yes it has it's disadvantages too!) is that there is zero motivation to work out. Therefore, staying fit is never at the top of any agenda and incorporating any kind of fitness routine needs a whole bunch of mental calisthenics designed to push and prod self into action. When I was carrying Ads, I put on so much weight (18 kilos) that losing it became my main motivation. Even there, nature helped me. The first few horrible months of dealing with a colicky baby, getting back to work very soon and the general first-time-mommy stress melted 12 of those 18 kilos within a month (I kid you not!) and the last 6 kilos gradually disappeared over the course of the next 2 years. With Y, I stayed heavier for a longer time and  didn't do too much by way of exercise (a leisurely walk every now and then was about it) but I managed to lose that weight as well. My health-nut of a husband has been after me for years now, berating me for my lack of physical fitness and using emotional blackmail as a not-so-effective tool (You are the mother of 2 children. You need to take better care of your health, for them if not for you). And I thought my kids would actually be better off without me! :)

So anyway, this year I thought I do need to be more responsible. I analyzed why sticking to a fitness routine was so difficult for me. One, I get bored very easily. So clearly, I needed to do something a little more interesting than just walking around the complex or using gym equipment. The latter bores me to death before I've even gotten started! I could have started learning tennis along with Ads since the lessons are right here in the complex but considering our impending move, I'm not going to begin anything new (and expensive) right now. I could do aerobics, zumba, cycling....the options are endless, aren't they? I'd enrolled in yoga classes over the summer and was bowled over by the amazing flexibility and tone that it gave me. So for now I've decided to do yoga and walking/jogging on alternate days, 5 days a week.
Two, what was throwing a spanner in the exercise-related works was that I was being too rigid. If I planned to do 45 minutes of exercise a day, then if I couldn't get the whole 45 minutes done at one stretch, I was just getting frustrated and giving up. I wasn't using any common sense to understand that even if I did just 15 minutes a day, it was still better than doing nothing at all. Therefore, my target now is...no targets! I will try and do between 30-60 minutes a day. I won't get fussed if I can only do 20, or 15 minutes. I will also be flexible about splitting the routine and getting the daily quota done in 2 sessions. Most importantly, I will treat it as an investment in my health and well-being and NOT as a chore.
Three, how many times have we all read/heard this? It's all about lifestyle changes. Portion control. Moderation. Small steps. Taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Bending down to play with the kids.
I have seen the light :) More importantly, the ever-present motivation in the form of fit and agile husband is always at hand! On his mean days, S will comment on how 30 years hence, he will still be able to keep up with the youngsters, while I hobble along sorrily behind them :( Gotta make sure that doesn't happen!

Words of career wisdom

A friend on facebook had posted this video and I found it a very intelligent, balanced point of view in tackling the serious question of why women are "opting out" of their careers and some societal and also internal changes that are required for those who want to stay in the workforce and rise to the top. The points she makes are so pertinent, and definitely points #1 and #3 were something I hadn't seriously thought about before. How to 'sit at the table' and 'not leave before you leave' really resonated with me. As she says right at the end -  I want my son to have a choice to contribute fully in the workforce or at home, and I want my daughter to have the choice to not just exceed, but to be liked for her accomplishments.

Ads annoying habits

What's this annoying habit many kids have of not being able to support their own weight when they are standing someplace with you? It happens all the time with Ads. Waiting at the bus stop, he leans against me, so that I have to constantly stagger and try to maintain my balance. In line at grocery stores, malls, even at the park, he's standing there but resting most of his weight on me. IT is SO irritating! It's like he's so tired (read bored) that he can't even be bothered to support himself and I have to do it for him. I keep pushing him away but he rebounds, like a rubberband. I've now started annoying him by holding him at arm's length so that he cannot lean on me. As he leans in, I stay where I am but stretch out my arm so that he doesn't come near me. It's not a solution but atleast I'm not the only one irritated!

Another habit that bugs me - the way he calls out Amma - A-mmm-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa???? Repeat multiple times without giving me a chance to respond and saying Amma so loudly that he wouldn't hear my response over the din he's making. Really, the sound makes me go ballistic. And since he keeps calling me for something or the other every half-hour, we hear the word around a LOT. He used to call me mommy until some months ago and there are days I wish he would go back to it. Mo-mmmmm-yyyyy didn't create the same feeling of irritation!
Such an affectionate, maddening, emotional child. I don't know any 5-year old (boys) who still want to sit on their mother's lap and kiss and cuddle them like there's no tomorrow. Love you, Ads. I feel like a cheapo for cribbing about the little eccentricities (which will become endearing when I look back after a few years) but aaah, it did feel good to blow off some of that steam :)

Huddle and Cuddle

Last weekend, we stayed the night at a relative's place and they were astonished how all four of us fitted into their queen-size bed, and woke up fresh as daisies the next morning, carrying no aches and pains from the uncomfortable sleeping positions the night before. I don't think we can carry it on for much more than a year though, not on a queen bed for sure. The only reason we can do it now is because it's winter and it's actually much nicer to have the kids in bed with us. S says it's like having an extra layer of blankets! Body warmth and all that.

All this co-sleeping is spoiling my kids silly. They can't go to sleep without a cuddling session. A few minutes after I am awake, Y gets up, sensing the lack of body warmth next to her. Come to think of it, it's spoiling me and S too, so accustomed as we are to having warm little bodies nestled inside ours, little arms around our necks and drool staining our clothes the next morning (the gross things parents find cute!).
I'm sure I am going to start finding all this cute stuff pretty annoying once the Delhi summer arrives in another couple of months. Body warmth in April and May - I think NOT!

So I'm not a superior parent. So what?

So of course everyone seems to have read this article. When I first skimmed through it, I thought maybe she was being satirical. On the second reading I was horrified to find that she was dead serious. I've been reading a lot of blogs that also talk about this article, most of them contesting Ms Chua's point of view. My problem with her viewpoint is not her methods of producing "success" but her definition of success. Hang it all, we're Indians and many of us have been brought up by parents like Ms Chau. We have been scolded, cajoled, even beaten into getting the highest grades, the coveted admission into the best college, to the exclusion of a social life, friends, parties, fun, travel, hobbies, interests and general timepass. I was very fortunate in not having such parents but knew plenty of people who did. So, like I said, what she does and how she does it doesn't bother me as much as why she does it.

Her very narrow definition of success bothers me. It is the equivalent of the Indian obsession with IIT/IIM/medical. So, her parenting may ensure a "superior" outcome but only if one accepted her very insular definition of what consitutes success. As parents, is that what we want? If we had to choose between a stellar career, graduation from Yale and being an accomplished pianist; and being a well-adjusted, contented, happy, empathetic citizen of the world, which one would most parents choose? Definitely, the two outcomes need not be mutually exclusive. They can, and sometimes, co-exist quite amicably in the same person. But I'm guessing that person would not have had Ms Chua for a mother!

The article came at a time when we are once again, evaluating schools for Ads. When we moved back from the US less than a year ago, I looked up the list of Noida's best schools (Hindustan times runs a survey every year), eliminated the DPS's and Amity's which have large class sizes and a huge focus on academics and looked for schools within the list which seemed to have a philosophy of experential, more slow-paced learning and plenty of extra-curricular options. That narrowed it down to only 3 schools. We met two and selected the one with the superior physical infrastructure although we liked both. It turned out to be an international school, which means air-conditioned classrooms, buses, and an IGCSE curriculum, and we have been very happy with it. My rejection of the traditional schools stems mostly from my own experiences in studying in such schools. I got nothing from my school education except practice at doing well in exams (useful takeaway, you say? I'm not convinced about that). Any little creativity that I had was effectively stamped out by the Indian school system. And yet, if I managed to get into IIM, I give the credit only to my hard work, motivation and a supportive family environment.
Even assuming I am all wrong about traditional schools, the fact is that I only have leeway of a few years to 'experiment' on Ads by placing him in the not-so-competitive schools. By middle school, he will need to enter the rat race so that he can play catch-up with his peers. But by then I will have evidence to support or disprove my grand thesis! I have a strong feeling that the school has a lesser role to play in the child's growth and accomplishments than we commonly believe. A child who is reasonably clever, who is taught to be hard-working, whose parents support him unconditionally, will do well even in an 'ok' school. He doesn't have to be in the 'best' school. The definition of best and success is so vague and subjective. We all do what we think is the best for our children but how many of us really stop to think what the best might be? By pushing my child into a multitude of classes and ensuring he gets into the most reputed schools, aren't we just falling into the activity trap of doing?
I think a little more reflection might be in order. Once I'm done packing and moving and have time to breathe, I will update on the outcome of my reflections :)

Updates from Mommyland

I've been away from this blog for only a month, but it seems like several! It has been a crazy-busy time. S has been so miserable at his job that he had been looking around for other options. Finally everything came together and he landed a good role in one of his ex-companies, working under one of his ex-bosses! We went out to celebrate, not the new job, but his deliverance from the old, awful workplace :) The upside was that he could spend the whole of the winter break with us in Chennai, away from work pressures and able to relax and enjoy his cousin's wedding, the fabulous "winter" weather this year and the heavy networking with relatives that is part and parcel of a Chennai vacation.

We came back last weekend to a FREEZING Delhi. S and I were miserable. The first thing S did was run out and buy a couple of heaters. The kids took it in their stride. They always do, don't they; it's the adults who unfailingly complain! We pulled out our relocation to-do lists and started working. Because we have to move to Gurgaon - that chaotic mess of high-rises and malls and little else besides. We made a day-long trip to Gurgaon to visit a couple of schools, and we have more lined up for the weekend. We don't relocate until the end of the academic year in March 2nd week, but getting into a decent school is our first priority and everything else will follow from that. S starts work on Monday. Here's to a new year and new beginnings.

Cat out of the bag

I'm that mom. You know, the crazy one who's mostly unrecognizable without the big backpack or baby bag. The latter which contains all the stuff required to sit out a Richter 7 earthquake :) My Virgo instincts found full expression once I started going out and about with a baby. Disinfecting wipes, diapers, snacks, change of clothes, plastic covers, ziploc bags, medicines, bandages - you name it and it's there in THE BAG! While I like being this prepared for spit-ups, hunger pangs, wet and soiled clothes and dirty restaurant tables, I can't wait to ditch the bag and start lugging around something more elegant and classy. I thought that my ditch-the-bag moment would come in a year or so, max. Witness my surprise and disappointment when we visited one of S's cousins over the weekend and I found the cousin's wife (mom of two kids ages 8 and 12) lugging around a similar bag, brimming with all kinds of sports equipment, 2 water bottles and snacks. 

I mentioned this fact to her. She nodded sagely and said "There'll always be a bag. Only the stuff inside will change." Grrr. 

That was the day that I bravely left the bag at home while we stepped out. Within an hour Y had soiled her hands and face (we needed wipes, didn't have them), Ads was dying of hunger inspite of a heavy meal just before we stepped out (we needed snacks, didn't have them) and there were mosquitoes everywhere (we needed Odomos, didn't have it). Mr. Murphy, I know you're out there, you don't have to prove it to me! 

To cover all contingencies

I asked Ads why he was carrying 2 hankerchiefs and he said "One is for my nose and one is for my tears". Ufff....too much! It sounds so tragic, doesn't it? The melodramatic fellow!

Well, atleast no one can say I didn't allow my boy to express his feelings clearly. Nobody shall accuse me of curtailing his emotional growth or ignoring the emotional quotient in his personality.

To set the record straight, he'd been going through a weepy phase and just felt the need to be prepared :)

Afternoon activities

I never seem to get any alone-time with Ads nowadays. By the time he gets back from school, cleans up, has a quick snack and we settle down to some activity, Y is generally up from her nap, often a little cranky and I have to give her the lion's share of my attention. So the infrequent days when she naps longer than usual, are times when Ads and I get some much-treasured one-on-one time together. This morning, while walking to the bus stop, we were talking about the human heart and he wanted to know how it worked. I gave him the basic dope but he had so many questions which I could not answer because he was the cynosure of all eyes today and other children and parents at the bus stop kept coming up to talk to him. He was dressed up in the garb of Arjuna (from Mahabharata), complete with shiny bow, mustache and crown! While walking to the bus stop, one of the uncles left Ads speechless by coming up to him, bowing deeply and saying "Namashkar namashkar"!

When he was at school, I looked up some videos on the cardiovascular and digestive system and we watched them together, Ads continually interrupting (and not listening!) to ask tons of questions. Then he wanted to read some "new" books, so I feel back on my favourite online resource, Tumblebooks. We read 3 books together, two of which he really enjoyed. Well, actually the reading was done by tumblebooks, we just listened and commented and giggled over the silly stories. Y was still asleep (stroke of luck!), so he helped me fix his afternoon snack - stuffed puris. He was asking me whether doctors are also scientists. Whew -- one question I can answer without running to refer an external source!

Then Y got up, in just a terrible terrifying mood. I couldn't handle her and handed her over to Ads, who generally does a better job than me :) 

Ads tantrum, and mine

I'd be a fab mother if I was more patient = less short-tempered.

Yeah, right.......like that's the ONLY reason I'm NOT a fab mother yet :(

Whom am I kidding?!!

That apart, being more patient, more zen, less liable to fly off the handle, has to be a good thing in itself. I know this. The constant struggle to get there, and the more-or-less constant failures, make me suspect that I'm simply not trying hard enough. My kids aren't angels, but they are pretty good kids; and I always feel I'm shortchanging them just a little bit by not being a little more angelic myself.

Last evening, I really lost it with Ads. The time between 6 and 7.30 pm is when a casual visitor sees my family at it's worst :) We are just back from the park, the kids are hungry, they have to have their baths, and mommy is just terribly tired and waiting for the day to end. Some days I just feel pretty pissed off because I know that after the kids are in bed, I can't kick back with a book or TV but have to sit down and slog at my books for a couple of hours, and THAT is my free time (yeah I dug my own grave with this diploma)

Anyway, so all three of us are whiny :) Ads is generally the whiniest of all. He has this thing nowadays where he has to come first in everything. So if I am talking about him and his sister to someone else, I cannot and should not say "Yukta and Advaith" - EVER. It has to be "Advaith and Yukta". Hugs - he has to be hugged first, before Y. Ditto for kisses. Mealtimes - he needs to be served before Y. I've gone along with this OCD-type behaviour, knowing it's just a phase that will peter our sooner rather than later. Yesterday, Y wanted to bathe first too, and given that she was filthy after having rolled around in the grass and mud at the park, I asked Ads for "permission" to bathe her first. He said no. I reasoned, saying that she never asks to be first and she's pretty dirty so can we please bathe her first. Predictably, he started whining even more and maybe if I'd handled it more calmly, we could have reached an amicable conclusion. As it was, I was too tired to argue with him. Irritated, I told him that since he cries and throws a huge tantrum at this time everyday anyway, could he please go into his room and cry and not bother us since I was going to bathe Y first. He threw a fit, started crying loudly, much to Y's mystification. At first I ignored him and when I could take the noise no longer, gave him a piece of my mind (which did not help, but it was good to vent!) He protested by removing all his clothes and staying stark naked for 10 minutes (it's cold nowadays!), consequently making me feel horribly guilty. He has had his TV privileges removed for the next few and doesn't seem too bothered about it.

I'm still feeling terrible about losing it for what, in the cold light of day seems like (and was in fact) a pretty trivial reason. I certainly wish I had handled his tantrum in a mature way instead of throwing one myself and setting a lousy example. But what are these incidents but steps to a purer, higher self? :) Thanks to yesterday, I have been a super-good mom today, but then it's not 6 pm yet :)

Post-script

So it has been more than 9 months gestation for us in India :) Time to take stock. Why wait for a year? 

How has the move been? A rollicking success, I'd say. There were teething troubles yes, in the first couple of months, when nothing was getting done. Vodafone screwed up, as did Airtel. We couldn't install cable. We followed up for several weeks just to get a couple of mattresses that we had ordered, delivered. The stuff we shipped from the US was delayed by 2 months. It was burning hot. Tempers ran very high! It was inevitable that I ended up comparing at that point the silky smoothness of our transition to the US, where utilities were up and running in a day, and it took one trip to Target to get our home up and running. 

But after the initial and I have to admit, expected startup issues, it has been a breeze. Probably since we weren't away from India all that long, we didn't come back with a lot of excess baggage in terms of unrealistic expectations.Probably since we really really wanted to come back, the road seemed smoother. Probably since S thinks India is the market to be in, he has been stoic about some really lousy working conditions. Probably all of the above. Net net, we are loving Delhi, kids have adjusted well and didn't fall ill (a big concern of mine) and we are reaping the substantial benefits of grandparents and family being a short flight away. We get to attend weddings, get groceries, veggies, medicines and diapers home-delivered, order library books and toys over the phone, celebrate festivals India-style, shop in Delhi's fantastic markets and gorge on street food whenever we feel like it.

It hasn't been all hunky-dory, of course, especially my domestic help situation - but that's India. You take the chillies with the jaggery :)

More friends are moving back in the next couple of years and that feels good!

Boys will be boys. Oh yeah?

All boys love sports! Girls love dancing and makeup. Boys will be boys. And girls will be girls, I suppose. What do these statements, these sweeping generalizations, really mean? I used to think they were harmless phrases, to be tossed out casually while making polite conversation. Now, from the standpoint of a parent, I find them frightening in their ability to wrongly slot and categorize.

We have come far from the days when the woman’s lot was to cook and clean and bear and rear children (it is still like this in many countries/regions but we aren’t going there). But what’s with the whole reverse discrimination? Girls excelling in sports, math, science, not knowing how to cook, couldn’t care less about kids, can’t thread a needle to save her life – all good. Boys wanting to cook, dance, sing, can’t kick a ball to save his life – hmmm……Indulgence and amusement yes, acceptance NO.

It has to cut both ways. When will we, as a society, learn and accept this? I need my son to learn household skills just as much as my daughter does. I need my daughter to be independent and self-reliant and confident, the same as my son. Why is it wonderful when my daughter gets a permanent commission in the Indian Army (yay for that bit of news!) but not okay when my son wants to learn ballet? Why is it ok for my daughter to start crying at the drop of a hat while my son is expected to be rough and tough? We don’t do anybody any favours when we reinforce the stereotypes of women being touchy-feely while men are analytical and logical.

I admit, I feel sorry for the boys nowadays!  They have to be tough yet sensitive, career superheroes AND a dab hand at mixing a pasta salad, fun guys AND expert at changing a diaper.  Not to forget that most young couples desire to have a girl first rather than a boy! (the latter is strictly an empirical observation, I’m guessing most couples are not going to come out in the open and say they really really want a boy just in case someone accuses them of being……err….. anti-female or something! Not like my grandmother who observed, sagely, when I was pregnant with Ads “Let us hope it is a boy, then you are ‘safe’.”)

It is my earnest desire to live to see the day when the “daddy wars” will take center stage and daddy bloggers will heatedly debate which is better – working dad or stay-at-home dad? J

Why full-time motherhood is unfashionable

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the feminist movement, in trying to bring reform into important issues that affect women, has swung too far to the right and diluted the essence of femininity by making it unfashionable, in certain sections of society, to be a proud and fulfilled mother, who does NOT hold a paying job outside the home. Don't get me wrong. I think all women should have the CHOICE - to work or not to work, without any kind of judgement being passed on them. Leaving aside the issue of the millions of women who have a financial need to work outside the home, I personally feel every woman (and man, for that matter) needs to be financially independent and employable at all times (not necessarily employed throughout their lives). However, in a particular strata of society, predominantly middle-class, well-educated/professionally-qualified, the question that gets asked of SAHM moms is "So what do you do?" Subtext: What do you do all day? I hope your children are better-behaved, more polite, more accomplished, and A-graders at school to justify your stay-at-home status!

Certainly, I feel that I got the short end of the stick twice - I worked full-time for almost 2 years after Ads was born when most of my peers who's also had babies around the same time were taking their break. I was something of a puzzle for having gone back to work 45 days after giving birth to my first-born. Now that I am happily unemployed for the last 3+ years, things aren't any better. A few days ago, someone commented that "Whichever B-school you girls go to, at the end of the day you are all doing the same thing" (that is, nurturing and raising children). 

Now, this really bothers me. Not the debate on working moms vs SAHM (which has been done to death anyways), but the fact that being a full-time mother is somehow not enough. There has to be something else that defines me. I'm not sure that is a general need in all women. I might be quite happy to be identified as nothing but a mom for a few years (and a mom is everything, not nothing!), someone else might not - but why does that something else have to be a job or a career? Who are these others to decide my identity or identities?

I think we do ourselves and all other women, a disservice when motherhood is demeaned in this way. When people ask me if I work or if I have a job, I always say, yes I do! It's the most important job there is. And it doesn't matter whether you are a working mom or SAHM, the only difference is how many balls do you have up in the air. 

Hit or be hit?

Ads complained to me a couple of times about how some kid (a year younger than him) was hitting him on the school bus. This same kid used to forcibly take his water bottle away and drink from it, leaving Ads with no water in the afternoons. I told Ads to take a firm line with this kid. I'm not sure whether he did so, but I had also told the bus didi to keep an eye out for such goings-on, and the problem seemed to get resolved.

Contrast this with a conversation I had with Y's class teacher recently. She says "Y has been hitting other children. This is a phase, many kids go through it. You should talk about it at home, make her understand through the medium of stories that it is not okay to hit or push other children. We will do the same here at school." I was like - WHAT???? How did my children get to be so different? One is getting hit (and bearing it like a saint, I must add) and the other one is pushing poor kids around with no provocation. Every afternoon, Y comes back from school with some story about "So-and-so pulled someone's shirt, someone pulled so-and-so's hair". What is clear is that one of the actors in this drama is herself, but with her current lack of knowledge on pronoun usage, I am not sure whether she is acting or reacting! (Sure hope it's the latter, I am so not looking forward to the next PTM!)

Then I stumbled upon this article. Boy, did it explain a lot!

Large motor skills, and tennis lessons

A few days back, we had another parent-teacher meeting at Ads' school. As expected his teacher gushed about him - what an ideal student he is, how he is very bright, how she thinks he's going to be a scientist or a Prof (!), how his Hindi skills are improving, and so on. She wants him to be a little more outgoing in terms of participating in music and dance activities, putting himself forward to act in class skits and generally "loosening" up. I have been working on this; every evening after their bath and dinner and before bedtime, we have a session of full-on Bollywood music and all three of us shake a leg. It started mainly because Y loves to dance; Ads was reluctant to join in but after seeing how much applause Y gets on her performance, he was driven to compete! He has definitely become more confident about dancing, even in public, though he's pretty stiff and definitely looks like he has two left feet :(

The other feedback given by Ads' teacher is about how uncoordinated he seems to be. We have been noticing for some time that he runs in a strange manner, all arms and legs flailing about anyhow. He also cannot run very fast, he is still lousy at catching or throwing a ball, and the general effect when engaged in sporting activities is a complete lack of orchestration. The teacher suggested that we develop his large motor skills by getting him to run and jog more, for starters. I have been doing that every evening with him, and yesterday I hesitatingly mooted the idea of tennis lessons. We have classes going on right in our complex. It seems like the best option for him. He doesn't like team sports, especially contact sports like soccer. I've been wondering what would be the smart/wise thing to do. Should I persuade him to give a team sport a chance or just direct him toward an individual sport? Should he be given a chance to get over his aversion to "violent" (his term!) sports or should I not pressurize him to do something he clearly does not enjoy? 

I did ask him whether he wanted to go for soccer classes, especially since one of his good friends is going, but he vehemently refused. Tennis, he seems more receptive towards. So for the last couple of days, we have been sitting in the tennis court for 15 minutes, watching the session, just to get him acclimatized. He starts next Tuesday. Hopefully, he will enjoy playing and his eye-hand coordination will also get a boost.