Life with Jerry

As a friend sternly pointed out to me recently, “I don’t know if it’s third child syndrome, but I feel I hardly know Bojjandi, whereas I know the other two rather well through your blog”. Duly guilty and chastened, I have finally sat down to fill the gap. Especially since the primary reason for starting the blog was so they would have reference material in case I was gaga by the time their kids came around - and the way the three of them behave sometimes, I hope I will be!

So…Bojjandi really reminds me of Jerry from the Tom and Jerry cartoons. I don’t know whether it’s because of his hyper-energetic body language or his chubby cheeks, pointy chin and cheeky expression which remind me of Jerry’s looks, minus the big ears. He’s an action mn from the minute he wakes up in the morning, and quite stubborn about what he wants. His day starts with plaintive wails of ‘Abba, take me down’, and he gets quite annoyed if left to sleep in. Next comes a run into the kitchen and a perch on its counter for his Yakult – since our pal has given up milk since he was weaned off the bottle about a year and a half ago – talk about stubborn! Thankfully he loves Yakult – so much so that he’s constantly pretending he hasn’t already had one, so he can have another bottle of it!

He’s a real mischief-a-minute baby, constantly looking for the next thing he could get into trouble for. Jerry, excuse me, Bojji is happiest when he’s scurrying around at a fast pace – whether he’s running around the house on his tiptoes, jumping off furniture perilously close to hitting his head on a chance occasional table or so, zipping around the house on his scooter, or ramming his bicycle into walls when forbiddenly riding it indoors. He’s a crazy chatter-box, whose stream of commentary, plaintive pleading, arguments and general purpose chat don’t stop even when he’s asleep.

I expect a flock of penguins to come take up residence in our house any day now, given his habit of opening the fridge every 15 minutes to sniff out a new snack. He’s also the supreme techno-freak in our house, even more than his dad and elder brother. As soon as his eyes open in the morning, he’s plaintively asking for the mobile phone, dad’s new galaxy note or the iPadeesh as he calls it. If thwarted, he stands on tiptoe on top of the sofa to reach the iPod and starts spinning through the tracks. In fact, I’d say he’s better versed in the technology than me (no great accomplishment J) – he’s the one who figured out how to switch on the iPod on the iPad first. We joke that he’s the kid easiest to kidnap – all it takes is a fancy mobile phone!

He loves music and any time he hears a tune, starts wiggling his bum in time to the rhythm immediately. One of the cutest things I have seen is that he’ll turn the iPod on to play a favourite song (currently Sadda Haq), switch on a blue spotlight in our living room and start dancing underneath it all by himself. It really reminds me of those T&J sequences where J is dancing ecstatically. In fact, he amazed me during a concert at Chubbocks’ school, when he identified a song within the first bars of it playing!

He thinks he’s no less than either of his siblings in terms of size or ability and constantly psyches me out by trying stunts that a toddler really shouldn’t be. He turns wheelies on his cycle or balances his whole body on the crossbar of it while I watch, my heart in my mouth, thinking he’s going to tumble off and hit his head. He keeps telling me he needs to ‘feed my neopets’, an activity actually done by Chubbocks and he has no clue what it means. He constantly argues with his siblings as to the rights and wrongs of whatever game they are playing, and watches Oggy and laughs right along with the elder two at the jokes. In fact, he’s got a definite sense of humour and loves knock-knock jokes.

Knock-knock
Who’s there?
Ach
Ach-who?
Thatsh a nashty cold!

Knock-knock
Who’s there?
Mister
Mister who?
Mister Plod
….and so on an infinitum, with all the characters from his favourite books and TV shows.

At bedtime, listening to stories, he’s hugely inquisitive, asking dozens of questions about every word he doesn’t understand, or the motivations of characters. He can never wait for the story to be told and keeps flipping forwards and back through the book, exasperating Puddi and Chubbocks no end. He grouches about the fact that we don’t sit on his bed ever ( it’s a crib) – in our highly litigious household, we have regulated that we will sit on a each child’s bed to tell bedtime stories alternately; we have also legislated that the child whose choice of story is told first will be the last to get his/ her back scratched.

And then, as Morpheus gets closer, he turns into a confused little cuddle-bunny. He keeps repeating a catchphrase over and over – it could be ‘abba, abba…’ or Mamma, mamma…’. He makes a deal with us every night that if he has a bad dream, he will come into our bed. And 6 nights out of 7, as A and I prepare to sleep, there will be a polite tap-tapping on our door. It’ll continue despite our shouts to ‘come on in and close the door’, and one of us have to ceremoniously open the door and invite the polite interloper in. At which point, he promptly demands my favourite pillow, lies down smack bang in the middle of the bed and shoved his chubby little arm down my sleeve. Caressing my arm makes him sleepy, apparently.

Bojji Rap

Chubbocks one night at bedtime: Abba, I wish Bojji would stay a small baby forever, he's so cute.
Bojjandi, sleepily from his crib: I yam big boy!!!
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Bojjandi, speaking on his pretendphone: Hayo mamma, what aayu doing? I'm pyaying baybayade. ok bye

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Bojjandi is busy sorting and arranging his toycars and books on the sofa while A reads his paper quietly. I enter the room, and Bojjandi suddenly turns to me and says, "Abba dishturb my whole game. I am very upshet!"

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Bojjandi imperiously demands music: Abba, I wan Beayit ( Beat it, Michael Jackson) shong fulltime!

Chubbocks big words

A to Chubbocks: How are you feeling?
Chubbocks: Given the circumstances, I am feeling ok. (???)

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Chubbocks observes Bojjandi practically running up the stairs and exclaims, "Fancy that!"

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At a spelling bee, Chubbocks observes the 6-8 year old contest and says scornfully, "That's hardly what I was expecting. It's too easy!" ( well, he is a 7-year-old who can spell 'circumstances' and 'pursuit'

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I made Chubbocks read Tales of Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb. Chubbocks disdainful remark, "There's too much romans in it. I don't like books with romans!" ( he means romance!)

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Bojjandi wails that he wants to sleep downstairs with Didi. I insist he come up with us, so he says tearfully, "Didi yoygee" ( royegi, i.e. didi will cry!)

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I put some make-up on the Puds, as instructed, for her school form morning. Says she, confidingly, as abba drops her to school, "Abba? I like make-up!"

Bojjandi grows up too fast

It seems to me that Bojj is growing up too fast - much faster than either of his siblings. Maybe it seems that way because I'm clinging on to my baby and don't want him to turn into a boy, I'm not ready for it. Though I say sometimes, just to scare A, that it's time we had another baby since this one's growing up, I know that Bojj is my last and I'm jealously clinging to every moment of babyness. Probably we're going to end up spoiling him a bit - we're only too glad when he clamours to sit on our laps or asks to be carried here and there, which also happens too rarely already.

From barely lisping two-three words, he's already jabbering away in full and long sentences. the other day when I was taking the kids to Dilli Haat, he asked me 'whey ay u going?' and when I threw the sentence back at him, he replied, "I'm goin to office". He asks intelligent questions about things he sees, remembrs and comments on stuff, recites full poems instead of being able to pipe in the last word of each line...yesterday I was holding his hand and realised with a pang that from being soft, dimply, cuddly little things, his hands were turning into hard, boyish paws, all capable and coordinated and everything.

He's already fully into playing with his siblings and they spend all day giggling together, playing silly games and fighting. He's also learning empathy. yesterday Puddi was crying after being scolded for not eating her vegetables at dinner. Bojjandi, who's usually quick to give her a thump or a push, came up behind her, all concern. "Kyo yoyi ho?" ( Kyon ro rahi ho - why are you crying?) he asked, and then without being told, pressed a warm kiss into her back.

I'm hanging onto the last baby things about him that I can, given he's going to start proper playschool from next week, i.e. without a parent accompanying him, and all five days of the week. I'm resisting getting his soft baby curls cut off, even though A says he looks sissy. I love the way those curls dance in the air when Bojjandi runs with his head down or shakes his head in a vigorous Okay. I love twining them about my fingers and feeling the soft downiness of his baby hair...Time goes by too fast when you have a baby in the house!

Bojjandi turns two

Wow, it's kind of unbelievable that this kid is already tw, almost ready to be a little boy and not my bab-looest baby any more.

It seems like just yesterday that A and I were struggling with the decision of whether or not to allow this darling dumpling into our lives.

I can still remember the crazy time I had when pregnant with him - working 18 hour days, with low BP and anaemia and all-day nausea. I'd turn up at work, white as a ghost, barely able to heave my heavy body up the stairs, and my colleagues would rush out to help me, pulling out a chair and getting me some water, worried that I was going to faint. I travelled like a loon when pregnant, for about a month, I'd get home only to unpack and pack a fresh set of clothes and take off again.

I remember the weekend before he was born, how much A and I partied. we were at madmomma's 30th birthday party saturday, me barely being able to climb the 3 floors up to her house. The next night we had a karaoke evening with friends that lasted until 2 am. Even at the hospital, when we checked in on Monday evening, it felt like a holiday. The older two were safely in my parents' care. And that meant a last night of chilling out sans baby for A and me, and we watched old movies on the laptop and fell asleep much before the nurse came in to wake me up with a sleeping pill. The only hard part was not drinking water all night.

And Bojjandi helped me breach the barrier of fear and go for a spinal anaesthetic, rather than the general one I'd had the past two times. I could hear the doctors as they went about their business, though I tried to block it all out. And I called A from the OT as soon as the last stitch went in, to reassure him that I was fine.

And then I went into my room and saw Bojjandi for the first time, all pink and white and soft...It was the fastest that I'd felt a surge of love for any of my kids, maybe because I knew he would be the last baby I would have. Every little thing I did for him seemed to and still has an added poignancy, whether it's teaching him 'incy-wincy spider' or giving him a bath.

I'm a little scared that I'm going to end up spoiling him, me, the strict martinet of a mother. Because I keep feeling like holding on to every moment of baby-ishness. If he asks to climb into my 'yap', I rarely say no. Or if he asks to be carried up the stairs at night, I'm the first to say 'let's'. Thankfully he seems to be a pretty independent-minded baby and wants to do everything his siblings do, so hopefully he'll manage to grow up at the usual speed.

Even if I'm clinging with one hand to him and trying to pull him back, slow him down and say, hey, let me keep you my baby as long as I can.

Ever since he's entered our lives, he has filled it with so much joy, laughter, fun and mischief it's unbelievable that we might have considered saying no to this gift of God. Watching him run round and round the house and then fling himself with careless disregard for safety of life or limb onto me or the sofa, with an intrinsic trust in the softness of the world seems to soften the edges of our own adult world. Having him grow and start speaking long sentences and communicate so clearly at barely two is just amazing. And best of all is having him hug me, folding his whole cuddly, roundd little body into me, arms around my shoulders in complete surrender - it's as if the whole world of stress and tension has disappeared for those moments and I'm in a wonderful cocoon of love and comfort. He has already given us far, far more than we expected, despite having two other kids who do the same. And he's only two!

Bojjanji status update

It's been a long while since I had time to blog, one of the perils of working from home. Every minute that you spend on something apart from work is a minute you could have spent with the kids, so nothing else gets done except the absolutely essential.

Bojjandi is turning out to be an absolute delight, and we think God gave us a pretty great present by gifting us this unexpected baby bonus. He is, ( touch wood), a very happy baby, much like his siblings, and has an endless ability to amuse himself. He thinks he is as big and capable as them so whatever he sees them doing, he must follow suit. Climbing up the slide rather than its steps, jumping off from the center table in the drawing room, feeding himself...He's also a very physically active baby so he spends the whole day running around, now jumping, now climbing, now sliding down a chair..

He has latched on to Teletubbies like his siblings had, so every morning after he's had his milk, he imperiously waves his fat, chubby fingers and makes beckoning gestures at me, "Mamma! Yaya-po, c'mon." If I continue to ignore him and read my paper, he gets more impatient. "Mama! gi'up, c'mon, Yaya-po c'mon!" He watches the Teletubbies portions in fascination, though he gets bored with the bits wherein they show other children. For a while, he imitated the baby sun, and he'd say, "Baby! Erghhh" like the baby sun says in the show, and chortle madly. He is quite obsessed with teletubbies and left to himself would watch it all day. If the powe rgoes off while he's watching, he comes running out of the family room with the TV remote in his hand, saying 'Yaya po finish!", asking us to switch it on again.

He has become quite the communicator, out of sheer self-defense in this vociferous household. He is very clear about what he wants and will belligerently ask for 'paani' or 'dudh dido', 'totti dido' (toffee de do), 'duy' (dahi) at all times of day and night. The other day he was creating a fuss over his breakfast and then suddenly started screaming, "Bangu" when the maid put down a cut melon on the table. It took us a while to figure out that he thought it was a mango. Given his hectic prancing around, he tends to get hurt quite a bit so all day you can hear plaintive "kag gai" ( lag gayi) from him. But before you can do more than kiss the hurt, he's up and off again.

He was pretty frantic when I was away, because unlike the other two he's not old enough to understand what happened and where I went. So he would spend the day endlessly asking where I was and running to the door each time the bell rang, "mamma aaya!" Whenever I spoke to him over the phone, he'd get all excited and then refuse to hand over the phone to anyone else, partly because I think he expected me to appear out of it anytime, as if we were playing peekaboo. He'd keep saying "mamma, hayo mamma" over and over, and it was heartbreaking for me to have to end the conversation.

It's really been wonderful to watch each new stage of his development and I don't know whether we were like this with each of his siblings or because we know he's the last baby we'll have, but each new thing seems to be so poignant, I keep wishing we could freeze time and have it last a little longer.

Rites of Passage

Every family has its traditions, right? Some carry on from generations, some are created by the family and so on...My kids have started a really sad tradition of making sure each of them gets hospitalised before the age of two, it seems like. Hope that's over now for Bojjandi, as we've had a rough few days.

I got back from the US Thursday morning to find that Puddi and Bojji were both down with a cough and cold. That's standard issue for winters here but given Bojjandi's tendency to breathing trouble, I always get a little worried. Plus the scare of swine flu which has been going around...

We immediately began giving Bojjandi his usual medicines and nebulising him but By saturday we felt he hadn't improved much and it was heart-breaking to hear him struggling for each breath. I've had asthma all my life and I know exactly how he felt. The normally dancing-on-the-furniture, ever-chuckling baby had turned into one who just wanted to sit or lie down listlessly in someone's lap, too tired to even smile.

We took him to the paediatrician thinking maybe she could give him an injection or change his medication and he would get better but she was so alarmed she nebulized him on the spot and told us to rush him to hospital at once. We were in the emergency for four hours, with Bojjandi getting nebulized every twenty minutes. The place was a madhouse, because it seemed flooded with patients of all ages and descriptions, and the hospital was too full to have any beds free. Mind you, this wasn't even one of Delhi's affordable hospitals but a new and expensive one, so God alone knows how the mango people (aam junta) hospitals are functioning under this rush...There was one poor guy lying in the waiting area on a gurney who had been waiting for a bed to be free from the previous evening!

We finally got a bed around 4 pm, mostly because we wanted a single room, for fear of infections and so on. With incredibly bad timing, Dad had left for Bangalore that morning. Usually my parents have been around to pick up our slack when stuff like this happens, and it made me realise how spoilt we are. I wonder how my sister and BIL cope with it in the US, where they don't have people that close by.

I had had no time to recover from jet lag since I had sat up for the past two nights with Bojjandi, so I went home that evening to hang out with the other two kids, and A stayed at the hospital. The next morning I went, and he came home in the evening and so on. It was acrazy time, because Bojjandi was getting nebulized every hour on Day 1, then every two hours. Finally by Day two evening, they started nebulizing him every four hours.

True to form, the minute he felt even five minutes better, he reverted to being his sunshiny self, grinning with his cute four teeth and wanting to wander all over the room. He had cabin fever by day three, and frankly, so did we. It was getting very difficult for us to keep him busy since he's such an active child, and I was petrified of the hospital beds which are so high and have such short siderails.

Finally on Day 4 morning, the doctor said she felt he was 70% better and that while she felt she would like to keep him there another 2-3 days, she would release him at our request. We came home heaving huge sighs of relief. It was incredible to see the look of joy and comfort on Bojjandi's face as soon as he entered the house, and saw his siblings. I think that gave his spirits such a boost that he must have moved up to 80% better right way.

He's doing quite well now, though he's still being nebulized four times a day. Hopefully he'll be fully recovered by the weekend. And so will we!

Learning behaviour

Bojjandi is really my last baby and while on the one hand I grieve that he’s already one year old, on the other hand, I can’t help enjoying each and every minute of his growing up. Much more than either of the other two, perhaps because he is the last or because I have chosen to take a break from a much-hated workplace, I am able to enjoy each and every antic, each stage of his growing up and my sense of marvel at the human brain only grows.

Two weeks before his first birthday, Bojji took his first staggering steps, about two of them, in between my mum and me, and then fell about, flailing arms and legs. Just ten days back, he walked like a high-wire artist strung miles above the ground, arms akimbo and body swaying from side to side perilously. Now he’s not just walking but trying to run all over the house on his stumpy bow-legs and flat little feet. The only time he crawls is when he knows speed is of the essence, i.e. the nano-second that the door to the staircase or front door is open so he can practice his Houdini act. He’s walking splay-legged all the way from the backyard through the kitchen and into the living room, even pausing mid-stride to stoop and pick up something he’s not supposed to and pop it into his mouth, and then carry on with his perambulations!

The other day, when he was walking out of the dining room, I thought I’d surprise him and shout out a Boo! I did and for a split second his face froze in surprise and then he broke into a delighted chuckle. What astonished me a minute later was that he went back into the dining room, waited for me to walk in and boo-ed me in turn! I just find it amazing how their tiny little brains churn and process the amazing world around them and then figure out what they should do and when and how.

He’s also made progress in talking, and can call out A’s name in the sweetest voice possible. He also learned to say mama three days ago and it never fails to get him a hug from me. He knows his thatha very well and any time he spots him, starts saying thatha, at first softly and then more and more loudly until thatha turns and picks him up and plays with him. He is extremely interactive and now is good company for anyone, between his crazy antics, his habit of dancing to The Wheels of the Bus and the various games he likes to play.

All in all, every time I look at him, I can’t help but be glad for the accident and God’s grand design which gave us this wonderful gift.

7th heaven

Can’t believe my youngest child is already 7 months old and more…almost enough to make me long for another baby! He’s come on in the most amazing way, too. Perhaps it’s a result of how blasé the parents get with a growing brood. With the first child, everything is an event. Each time the baby cries, you question your credentials as parent, you question your paediatrician’s degree and you’re pretty much happy promising him anything to stop crying. I thought we’d be a bit more blasé the second time around and of course, by the third time, pretty much ask to be woken only when someone saw blood. Well, guess what. It’s as thrilling each time, because each baby is so different, despite the same two sets of genes blending and a similar upbringing.

Bojjandi’s growing up and has a definite personality now and it’s a thrill to uncover a little more of that with every day and each interaction. He seems to have a lovely nature, his smiles are so completely guileless and open. Touch wood, like my other two babies, this one too is usually commented on as, “What a happy baby!” He loves greeting us with a beaming smile right from the time he wakes up in the morning, and throughout the day, it seems like he just wants to catch our eye so he can let loose one of those beams of pure joy.

He’s turning out to be a pretty good communicator – or maybe the other two trained us well. He rarely cries but when he does, we can usually tell what’s causing it – gas versus code brown, boredom versus hunger…And he’s already multilingual – he can not only make French-like cooing sounds but also Germanic guttural sounds though we haven’t yet figured out what language the grunts are.

An active baby, he now hates lying down because he can’t see what’s going on around him. He starts yelling loudly until he’s propped up on someone’s lap. He even hates being in his bouncer because it’s too constricting. Like his siblings, he seems to prefer making his own amusements rather than play with toys. He can be endlessly amused by me turning my fingers round and round over his head. He also spends hours making his plump hands turn in circles and sucking at those fat fists. He’s just learned to clap and finds considerable amusement in trying to make one palm strike the other. He also seems quite amused by the mayhem caused by the rest of us and looks on with a goodnatured grin on his face.

He’s taken pretty well to changes so far. I recently had to travel on work and was out of town for 6 days. The poor baby went cold turkey on everything from breastfeeding to hugs from mommy but seems to have not troubled his dad at all. He’s enjoying his solid meals tremendously and as soon as he spots his meal on his little silver thali, starts yelling as if to tell us to hurry up and feed him. He loves a banana for breakfast and now not only finishes a full banana but usually winds up the meal by howling for more. He’s also transitioned quite smoothly from the steel Aladdin’s lamp feeder to sippy cups for milk, and moved from his cloth sling to Puddi’s old cot with ease.

All in all, he’s made third-time parenthood seem like a complete breeze and lots of fun. It’s hard to believe that this time last year he was the size of a zygote and that we ever even had a second thought about not welcoming this blessing into our lives and hearts. If ever there was an indulgence baby made for the pure purpose of enjoying every step of the way, that’s Bojjandi. I’m not so serious about my role as parent anymore – I’ve learnt that a light touch is better than a heavy one. It’s better to enjoy every moment of it – the scoldings, the banter, the tantrums and the topsy-turvy house, because it all goes onto the next phase all too soon and while each phase has its moments, there’s nothing that fills a home and a heart as much as really young children and their perfect imperfections. And I’m savouring each and every moment of Bojjandi’s each phase, drawing it out and hoping the growing up slows down a bit.

Having Bojjandi’s like having a really calorie-packed, chocolatey, sinful dessert after having a great meal. You’re not sure you need it or indeed can manage to have it but you just want to indulge yourself and when you do, it feels so good…7th heaven!

3 months old already

I can’t believe Bojji’s already that old! It seems like just yesterday that I was huffing and puffing fit to blow anyone’s house down with him inside me, being repelled by garlic (gasp, moi, who usually eats enough garlic to keep a whole village of Draculas at bay). He’s already been on the planet a full year - from conception to delivery. It’s been an eventful and tiring yet thrilling three months. One quickly forgets how small and vulnerable they are until a new l’il un comes along.

From this little puny thing that could barely move a muscle, Bojjandi’s now a pretty active little baby, kicking his legs and arms vigorously and craning his neck to look around him. Place him on a floor cushion in the family room and he tilts his head backwards so he can watch TV better – though what it looks like upside down, God only knows. He’s been smiling for a few weeks now, though mostly at the fan. But now he’s old and smart enough to recognize people – or at least the fact that someone’s talking to him. Pick him up, coo to him and he lets out the most beautiful beams full of joy. He seems to save his best smiles for me, and each time I pick him up, he focuses intently on my face and starts smiling repeatedly. There’s a magic in a baby’s smile which just melts the heart.

It's amazing to me that something so tiny can already demonstrate such intelligence or purpose, to know when someone is cooing lovingly at it, and to know how to respond right back to that love. Truly, someone up there knew what he/ she was doing when they made babies!