How time marches on. It seems like yesterday that I was freaking out at having gotten pregnant, obviously without any planning ( in fact A and I joke about it being an immaculate conception given how stressed both of us were with new jobs at the time, but that's really not material for a mommy blog, now is it?). I think Dad had figured it out much before it dawned on either of us. And now he's 9. Almost a teenager, and by the behaviour, sometimes I think he's in his early teen years already.
When I look at old photos of his, I almost can't recognise the chubby-cheeked character who peers out, I'm so used to his gangly, bony form with its jeans falling off the non-existent backside.
But despite his terrible temper - inherited, I shan't say from which side of the family - and occasional tantrums, he is for the most part a really simple little kid. A couple of years ago, he commented that we couldn't get him a Wii or Playstation 'because we don't live in an apartment or a hotel. If we did we could afford it", and has hardly ever pestered us about it. He is a fashion disaster in the making, so eager to go out and play that he wears his jeans back to front and Tshirts inside out and doesn't even notice, and whinges to be allowed to wear his battered crocs because they are 'so comfortable'. He begs and pleads to be allowed to download a new computer game that costs about a dollar and then doesn't even bother to ask for a proper birthday present.
I find that quite amazing, given that I read about kids decked out in designer labels from head to toe, or overhear them compare their father's car brands and rag each other about it.
For Chubbocks, all is well in his world as long as he gets his quota of screen time and a stack of books to read. He still insists that we read out a story to him each night, though his reading level is advanced enough for him to have finished the Harry Potter series already. He's developed a really good sense of humour and creates little riddles and jokes all the time. He's known as the little encyclopedia in school because of the facts he has at his command about any topic. And he's the evolving elder brother, sometimes bossing over ( or trying to boss over) his siblings, and yet super-protective of them, always ready to intervene with us when we're getting upset with them.
I think we're in for a few challenges going forward though. The first signs of rebellion and angst are already in, as evidenced by his tantrums. He's no longer content to obey instantly, or unquestioningly. There are times when he insists something is true/ he's done something correctly despite all evidence to the contrary. He's unfortunately a very bright and talented child - unfortunate because things come so easy to him that he hasn't needed to work hard at them, and being patient or persevering doesn't come naturally to him as it does to Puddi.
He's also going through a phase where he feels more controls being put upon him - more homework, more expectations in terms of behaviour at home and at school - whereas he sees his siblings get a freer rein. In his mind, there are no distinctions between him and them so he's getting very angsty about it. We've seen more tantrums, some instances of defiance and many hyper-emotional moments - "This is the worst day of my life, I wish I was never born" type. I was hoping we had a little time before we got to it. I've lived through my adolescence and let's just say, I don't wish myself in my parents shoes!
Anyway, I guess we'll get through - everyone does. Meanwhile I'm just going to enjoy the good moments, of which there are many!
Showing posts with label chubbocks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chubbocks. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Long overdue updates
I have hardly been blogging of late, but decide it's high time I wrote down what the kids have been up to. Chubbocks has finished Class 2 with his usual effortless performance so far ( brags moi :)) and moved up to Class 3. He's now 8, supposedly grown up. But the boy is a marshmallow inside.
We were giving up our Photon connection because it gave us dismal connectivity. Chubbocks mounted a full campaign asking us not to give it up. Finally he came down to begging us that even if we disconnected it, we should keep the modem somewhere safe, "else it's feelings will get hurt." I was cleaning out the kids playroom recently and came across a box full of soft toys, which the kids have hardly ever played with. I had the maid put them into a bag, preparatory to giving them away. That night I found Chubbocks, soft brown eyes full of concern. "Please don't throw them away. They are my babies!" Now that bag has been transported into an attic, half the contents piled on Chubbocks' bed, with barely enough space on the bed for him to be able to turn over.
Puddi is another thing altogether. She's crazy about art and runs riot with paint, crayons and colour pencils. She spends hours every day quietly engrossed in making a new work of art. I get the distinct feeling she is artistically gifted, going by her efforts so far. She's also an enthusiastic performer on stage. Her puppet dance came in for an encore on the day that we had PTA meetings, and she performed with the same gusto as she had done on stage. Last week she had a ballet performance. Her bit was pretty minor, but she was hilarious. The child next to her had forgotten her steps and refused to stand up on cue. So Puddi just reaches over and hauls her to her feet, gesticulating wildly to remind her of the steps :)
She's also growing into a lovely sister and a great middle child. She's equally happy running riot with Bojjandi or with Chubbocks. She plays board games, argues with Chubbocks, has long arguments and nonsense conversations with him. They fight all the time and irritate each other, yet her eyes well up when he gets scolded. He gets rather hyper at bedtime and competes fiercely for who will get Abba to sit on their bed first, and she's so quick to give in to keep him happy! Then, with Bojjandi, she's riotously running and tumbling around the house and making him laugh. We were out for dinner the other day, and Bojjandi wanted a bite of her dessert. Not only did she readily agree to share but she maternally and responsibly told him to sit down neatly next to her and fed him with such loving care.
And then there's Bojjandi, the most mischievous, rascally urchin in our house. His speech, both in English and Hindi, has grown by leaps and bounds, and he rattles off long sentences, even paragraphs. His communication skills are terrific and he is easily understood by all of us at home, even if newcomers find it hard to figure him out. That's because his 'r's and 'l's are still 'y' sounds, which is adorable and I really want him to stay that way fro as long as possible.
He's like a dashing movie hero - dashing around the hosue at all times. One of the loudest voices in the house too. Very fond of opening the fridge and scavenging for anythign interesting that he can find, from dahi to chutney, chocolates to cheese. Stubborn as a mule, he still hasn't touched milk after we threw away his bottles six months ago! Assertive and more than capable of holding his own against either Chubbocks or Puddi. And when he gets really affectionate towards you - watch out. He'll come and 'kench' you ( pinch) realy hard, with a fierce expression and gritted pearly teeth. or launch himself at you like a missile and pound away with his chubby fists. He loves his Noddy scooter and his favourite thing is, at night after he's changed into pajamas, to come riding into the family room on the scooter, long, unruly curls blowing behind him, like those old-fashioned Bollywood hero-introduction shots :)
We were giving up our Photon connection because it gave us dismal connectivity. Chubbocks mounted a full campaign asking us not to give it up. Finally he came down to begging us that even if we disconnected it, we should keep the modem somewhere safe, "else it's feelings will get hurt." I was cleaning out the kids playroom recently and came across a box full of soft toys, which the kids have hardly ever played with. I had the maid put them into a bag, preparatory to giving them away. That night I found Chubbocks, soft brown eyes full of concern. "Please don't throw them away. They are my babies!" Now that bag has been transported into an attic, half the contents piled on Chubbocks' bed, with barely enough space on the bed for him to be able to turn over.
Puddi is another thing altogether. She's crazy about art and runs riot with paint, crayons and colour pencils. She spends hours every day quietly engrossed in making a new work of art. I get the distinct feeling she is artistically gifted, going by her efforts so far. She's also an enthusiastic performer on stage. Her puppet dance came in for an encore on the day that we had PTA meetings, and she performed with the same gusto as she had done on stage. Last week she had a ballet performance. Her bit was pretty minor, but she was hilarious. The child next to her had forgotten her steps and refused to stand up on cue. So Puddi just reaches over and hauls her to her feet, gesticulating wildly to remind her of the steps :)
She's also growing into a lovely sister and a great middle child. She's equally happy running riot with Bojjandi or with Chubbocks. She plays board games, argues with Chubbocks, has long arguments and nonsense conversations with him. They fight all the time and irritate each other, yet her eyes well up when he gets scolded. He gets rather hyper at bedtime and competes fiercely for who will get Abba to sit on their bed first, and she's so quick to give in to keep him happy! Then, with Bojjandi, she's riotously running and tumbling around the house and making him laugh. We were out for dinner the other day, and Bojjandi wanted a bite of her dessert. Not only did she readily agree to share but she maternally and responsibly told him to sit down neatly next to her and fed him with such loving care.
And then there's Bojjandi, the most mischievous, rascally urchin in our house. His speech, both in English and Hindi, has grown by leaps and bounds, and he rattles off long sentences, even paragraphs. His communication skills are terrific and he is easily understood by all of us at home, even if newcomers find it hard to figure him out. That's because his 'r's and 'l's are still 'y' sounds, which is adorable and I really want him to stay that way fro as long as possible.
He's like a dashing movie hero - dashing around the hosue at all times. One of the loudest voices in the house too. Very fond of opening the fridge and scavenging for anythign interesting that he can find, from dahi to chutney, chocolates to cheese. Stubborn as a mule, he still hasn't touched milk after we threw away his bottles six months ago! Assertive and more than capable of holding his own against either Chubbocks or Puddi. And when he gets really affectionate towards you - watch out. He'll come and 'kench' you ( pinch) realy hard, with a fierce expression and gritted pearly teeth. or launch himself at you like a missile and pound away with his chubby fists. He loves his Noddy scooter and his favourite thing is, at night after he's changed into pajamas, to come riding into the family room on the scooter, long, unruly curls blowing behind him, like those old-fashioned Bollywood hero-introduction shots :)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Bedtime Tales
Bedtimes at our house are getting increasingly complex, with three children of different ages and tastes to account for. It started out with Chubbocks getting three stories a night, followed by some singing. Chubbocks also has the same strange affliction I have - when he gets sleepy, his back starts itching and he has to have his back scratched for a bit.
Then along came Puddi, and we had to split the story-telling and back scratching/ patting between the two. And now we have Bojjandi, who's a pretty demanding little fellow. And we have sibling competitions on a nightly basis. Just to give you an idea of how a typical bedtime goes...
First we have a race up two flights of stairs to the bedroom floor. The first one to reach always has to proclaim "I win!", while the other two protest about cheating or how they had a stomach ache or had fallen down two weeks ago and were still nursing a stiff knee. Then, while A or I, or both, are turning back quilts and making the beds ready for the night, the three have a scrimmage at the bookshelf in their room, each picking out the book they want to be read from. Bojjandi, who has no concept of fairness, usually pulls out three or four books, while dropping half a dozen others on the floor, and insists that he wants to listen to them all, while we try to dissuade him.
Chubbocks and Puddi argue about whose bed the hapless parent will sit on that night to read the stories. Since this is supposed to happen on a rotational basis, one of the kids will always insist on having a convenient attack of amnesia about the previous night. Thankfully Bojji still sleeps in a crib, so he's not part of this competition. Then Chubbocks and Puddi will argue about whose story gets read first, while Bojjandi insistently yells out the name of his story, "Abba, yeed mine!( read mine)". I try to avoid this mess when it's my turn at bedtime by insisting that I choose all three stories or narrate them from memory/ imagination, and the strategy works some of the time.
Finally, somehow I settle on one of the beds, Bojjandi on my lap, while the other two try and squash in as close as possible, crib about how they can't see the pictures/ words and how it isn't fair. We try and read Bojjandi's story first, most nights, because that's the only way to shut him up while the other two stories are being read. Halfway through the story, Bojjandi tries to skip ahead and look at other pictures in the book, while we haul him back to what we're reading. We then read out the other two stories.
Once the stories are done and kids tucked in to their respective beds, Bojjandi starts his nightly queries about everyone on the house. "Where'sh abba?" "Where'sh ayoopa didi?". Then it comes to his playmates. "Where'sh miaow (his stuffed toy tiger)?" "Where'sh Gob the bildo ( Bob the builder)" He also answers many of the questions himself, which makes me wonder what the point is. "Gob'sh sh'eeping ( Bob is sleeping)". "Ayoopa didi'sh sh'eeping" and so on, till I issue a ultimatum about not singing until he keeps quiet.
Then come the song requests. Puddi usually wants 'a few of my favourite things'. She's also become fond of 'Wouldn't it be lovely' from My Fair Lady ( I think the phrase 'lots of chocolate for me to eat' had something to do with it!). Bojjandi used to ask for the Karadi song - 'The Bear went up the Mountain', which I sing in English and Kannada. The 'kookabayya' used to be another favourite earlier. Lately he's hooked on to 'Chim chimenee' from Mary Poppins, and keeps asking for repeats. If I start singing something he doesn't care for particularly, he's pretty direct about it, "Mamma, shwitch the shong off!" Chubbocks has no music requests and takes pretty much anything I sing in a sweet spirit. For instance, tonight I sang The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel and asked him if he liked the song. He said he didn't care for it because of the bit about boxing and 'cut him till he cried out' but generously stated that he liked the way I sang it. That's so much a part of his personality - not wanting to hurt the other person by any criticism...
After the concert, during which Bojjandi will talk continuously, along with requests to 'shcat my bat' - which he just says to copy his siblings, you could tapdance on his shoulder and he would think you were shcatting his bat, he will turn to his side and keep repeating your name over and over, a sure sign that he's sleepy. He's still pretty alert to any signs of wrongdoing, though - tonight, I started patting his forehead, hoping to make him nod off sooner, and he reprimanded me sternly, "Mamma, don't bang me!"
The other two wait patiently while their noisy and fussy junior gets to sleep, sometimes falling asleep themselves in the process. Then comes the argument about who gets their back scratched first and whose back gets patted first. Finally, when I think these two are sleepy enough to go off on their own, I tiptoe out of their room, wishing them, as per family joke and tradition, 'gooda nayatoo, sudarimasu. I love you cherry vammu...
Then along came Puddi, and we had to split the story-telling and back scratching/ patting between the two. And now we have Bojjandi, who's a pretty demanding little fellow. And we have sibling competitions on a nightly basis. Just to give you an idea of how a typical bedtime goes...
First we have a race up two flights of stairs to the bedroom floor. The first one to reach always has to proclaim "I win!", while the other two protest about cheating or how they had a stomach ache or had fallen down two weeks ago and were still nursing a stiff knee. Then, while A or I, or both, are turning back quilts and making the beds ready for the night, the three have a scrimmage at the bookshelf in their room, each picking out the book they want to be read from. Bojjandi, who has no concept of fairness, usually pulls out three or four books, while dropping half a dozen others on the floor, and insists that he wants to listen to them all, while we try to dissuade him.
Chubbocks and Puddi argue about whose bed the hapless parent will sit on that night to read the stories. Since this is supposed to happen on a rotational basis, one of the kids will always insist on having a convenient attack of amnesia about the previous night. Thankfully Bojji still sleeps in a crib, so he's not part of this competition. Then Chubbocks and Puddi will argue about whose story gets read first, while Bojjandi insistently yells out the name of his story, "Abba, yeed mine!( read mine)". I try to avoid this mess when it's my turn at bedtime by insisting that I choose all three stories or narrate them from memory/ imagination, and the strategy works some of the time.
Finally, somehow I settle on one of the beds, Bojjandi on my lap, while the other two try and squash in as close as possible, crib about how they can't see the pictures/ words and how it isn't fair. We try and read Bojjandi's story first, most nights, because that's the only way to shut him up while the other two stories are being read. Halfway through the story, Bojjandi tries to skip ahead and look at other pictures in the book, while we haul him back to what we're reading. We then read out the other two stories.
Once the stories are done and kids tucked in to their respective beds, Bojjandi starts his nightly queries about everyone on the house. "Where'sh abba?" "Where'sh ayoopa didi?". Then it comes to his playmates. "Where'sh miaow (his stuffed toy tiger)?" "Where'sh Gob the bildo ( Bob the builder)" He also answers many of the questions himself, which makes me wonder what the point is. "Gob'sh sh'eeping ( Bob is sleeping)". "Ayoopa didi'sh sh'eeping" and so on, till I issue a ultimatum about not singing until he keeps quiet.
Then come the song requests. Puddi usually wants 'a few of my favourite things'. She's also become fond of 'Wouldn't it be lovely' from My Fair Lady ( I think the phrase 'lots of chocolate for me to eat' had something to do with it!). Bojjandi used to ask for the Karadi song - 'The Bear went up the Mountain', which I sing in English and Kannada. The 'kookabayya' used to be another favourite earlier. Lately he's hooked on to 'Chim chimenee' from Mary Poppins, and keeps asking for repeats. If I start singing something he doesn't care for particularly, he's pretty direct about it, "Mamma, shwitch the shong off!" Chubbocks has no music requests and takes pretty much anything I sing in a sweet spirit. For instance, tonight I sang The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel and asked him if he liked the song. He said he didn't care for it because of the bit about boxing and 'cut him till he cried out' but generously stated that he liked the way I sang it. That's so much a part of his personality - not wanting to hurt the other person by any criticism...
After the concert, during which Bojjandi will talk continuously, along with requests to 'shcat my bat' - which he just says to copy his siblings, you could tapdance on his shoulder and he would think you were shcatting his bat, he will turn to his side and keep repeating your name over and over, a sure sign that he's sleepy. He's still pretty alert to any signs of wrongdoing, though - tonight, I started patting his forehead, hoping to make him nod off sooner, and he reprimanded me sternly, "Mamma, don't bang me!"
The other two wait patiently while their noisy and fussy junior gets to sleep, sometimes falling asleep themselves in the process. Then comes the argument about who gets their back scratched first and whose back gets patted first. Finally, when I think these two are sleepy enough to go off on their own, I tiptoe out of their room, wishing them, as per family joke and tradition, 'gooda nayatoo, sudarimasu. I love you cherry vammu...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Long overdue updates
I started this blog because I thought it'd be great for the kids to see my memories of them laid out over the years once they got older. Of course, that only works when you are laying out those memories at regular intervals instead of practically once a year as I have been. Suffice it to say it has been a hectic time for several reasons so I've hardly been blogging this year.
But it's high time to update everyone on what's going on. To start with, I can proudly say that Chubbocks is a reader! I kind of had the feeling he would be, what with us owning (yes, I have to brag about this) over 5000 books and having set up a library at home, and the fact that he used to mug up his favourite books from the age of two and a bit onwards and pretend to be reading them out, but still...now he's a bonafide member of the reader's clan. I gave hima reading list this summer, of books that he could read over and above the stuff he was into anyway, like Horrid henry etc, and I'm delighted to say he has made great headway, and he loves some of those books and is dying to read them again, if only the list of new reads wasn't so exciting. I have also started a book club for kids his age, and plan to have a meeting this weekend if possible, so i'm looking forward to it.
Puddi has as always made a smooth transition, as butter-soft as her cheeks, from playschool to full time school. We were a little worried the first couple of days as she would go in crying but that passed really fast and now l'il madam comes and goes on the school bus. A rode along the first morning she went by bus, and apparently Puddi confidently marched to a seat, sat down and began chattering away with a boy from Class III or IV, much to his embarrassment! Poor thing, she does have a long school day for a four year old - from 7:45 am to 3:15 pm when she returns, and there are days when she gets cranky from being tired. But on the whole she's taken to it like a duck to water.
And now Bojjandi is also in school! He's in playschool twice a week. It's a parent-accompanied class so I go once a week and my maid goes with him once a week. And this little kiddo just loves it. We were lucky enough to get the same magical teacher who first taught Chubbocks and Puddi ( Jimmy is famous in Gurgaon), and Bojji has really taken a liking to him and to school. Now every day, in fact several times a day and even at odd times like after dinner, Bojjandi will start plaintively demanding, "ecooy jaana hai"( school jaana hai). Within two sessions at school he was singing along to 'Three little monkeys' and his English is growing by leaps and bounds. Now it's become a common sight around our colony to see him marching along wearing an empty old school bag on his shoulders, in imitation of Puddi and Chubbocks.
It's quite interesting to see the dynamics between the three siblings. There are times when they play very well together and it's lovely to hear three giggles pealing out through the house. Chubbocks is really protective of Puddi if anyone, including we, threaten her, and they have also reached the stage where they can play some board games together - Snakes and Ladder, Ouch etc.
But Chubbocks has reached a stage where he thinks he should be able to boss Puddi around because he's older, and my spirited gal ain't having any of that. So last night at the dinner table, I was telling Chubbocks to be careful not to get any food stains on his father's white shirt as he was perilously waving his dinner spoon around. As usual, Chubbocks tried to be contrarian and say, "The shirt isn't even white". So Puddi puts her oar in with a contemptuous, "Don't talk rubbish, ok! It is white." And she does it so nonchalantly that it has A and me in fits of laughter!
Then she and Bojji have a very different equation. She loves him but he's a bit jealous of her so he'll come up to me and complain, "puddi puchin"( Puddi pushing). Or he'll demand the exact toy she's chosen to play with and cry his heat out if she doesn't hand it over. Sometimes she'll reach out to hug or kiss him and he'll shy away. But then there are the times when they both go whirling around a room like dervishes before falling down bang! on the carpet, in a crazy game and laugh together for hours...
But it's high time to update everyone on what's going on. To start with, I can proudly say that Chubbocks is a reader! I kind of had the feeling he would be, what with us owning (yes, I have to brag about this) over 5000 books and having set up a library at home, and the fact that he used to mug up his favourite books from the age of two and a bit onwards and pretend to be reading them out, but still...now he's a bonafide member of the reader's clan. I gave hima reading list this summer, of books that he could read over and above the stuff he was into anyway, like Horrid henry etc, and I'm delighted to say he has made great headway, and he loves some of those books and is dying to read them again, if only the list of new reads wasn't so exciting. I have also started a book club for kids his age, and plan to have a meeting this weekend if possible, so i'm looking forward to it.
Puddi has as always made a smooth transition, as butter-soft as her cheeks, from playschool to full time school. We were a little worried the first couple of days as she would go in crying but that passed really fast and now l'il madam comes and goes on the school bus. A rode along the first morning she went by bus, and apparently Puddi confidently marched to a seat, sat down and began chattering away with a boy from Class III or IV, much to his embarrassment! Poor thing, she does have a long school day for a four year old - from 7:45 am to 3:15 pm when she returns, and there are days when she gets cranky from being tired. But on the whole she's taken to it like a duck to water.
And now Bojjandi is also in school! He's in playschool twice a week. It's a parent-accompanied class so I go once a week and my maid goes with him once a week. And this little kiddo just loves it. We were lucky enough to get the same magical teacher who first taught Chubbocks and Puddi ( Jimmy is famous in Gurgaon), and Bojji has really taken a liking to him and to school. Now every day, in fact several times a day and even at odd times like after dinner, Bojjandi will start plaintively demanding, "ecooy jaana hai"( school jaana hai). Within two sessions at school he was singing along to 'Three little monkeys' and his English is growing by leaps and bounds. Now it's become a common sight around our colony to see him marching along wearing an empty old school bag on his shoulders, in imitation of Puddi and Chubbocks.
It's quite interesting to see the dynamics between the three siblings. There are times when they play very well together and it's lovely to hear three giggles pealing out through the house. Chubbocks is really protective of Puddi if anyone, including we, threaten her, and they have also reached the stage where they can play some board games together - Snakes and Ladder, Ouch etc.
But Chubbocks has reached a stage where he thinks he should be able to boss Puddi around because he's older, and my spirited gal ain't having any of that. So last night at the dinner table, I was telling Chubbocks to be careful not to get any food stains on his father's white shirt as he was perilously waving his dinner spoon around. As usual, Chubbocks tried to be contrarian and say, "The shirt isn't even white". So Puddi puts her oar in with a contemptuous, "Don't talk rubbish, ok! It is white." And she does it so nonchalantly that it has A and me in fits of laughter!
Then she and Bojji have a very different equation. She loves him but he's a bit jealous of her so he'll come up to me and complain, "puddi puchin"( Puddi pushing). Or he'll demand the exact toy she's chosen to play with and cry his heat out if she doesn't hand it over. Sometimes she'll reach out to hug or kiss him and he'll shy away. But then there are the times when they both go whirling around a room like dervishes before falling down bang! on the carpet, in a crazy game and laugh together for hours...
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Seven already...
Dear Chubbocks,
How time flies...I can't believe my little chubbu-bubbu is seven years old already. I still remember you as a baby, flashing that lovely eyes and heart open grin that captivated everybody - even strangers on the street would stop, ruffle your hair and smile back. I remember that diapered baby-butt shaking fiercely to Jee Jee Doh - the first sign of your musicality. I remember what a shy boy you used to be, and how slowly, gradually, Jimmy, manu and the other teachers at Julia Gabriel drew you out until you truly became a confident communicator. And how, at every class, the minute Manu pulled out the Casio, everyone knew you;d ask for the Monkey song. Your first ever complete sentence was so characteristic: "Abba, what are you doing my face!" And the first word you learnt the spelling of, from hearing Abba and me saying it in code, when you were merely two years old - M-I-L-K!
You have become such a wonderful little boy and I constantly marvel at you. I know, on a daily basis, we just get exasperated with your early morning dawdling and your teasing of your sister, forgetting little things and eating too slowly. But when we sit down to think about you, there are just so many things I love about you and that make me proud of you.
One of the most endearing things you do is the way you look after your pandas. Even Puddi's one that you adopted after she stopped caring for it. Every night, you make sure their heads rest comfortably on the little herbal cushion and that they are as well covered by your blanket as you are. Even on family sleep nights, you make sure they are made part of the family.
You also look after your siblings pretty well. While you love to tease Puddi and certainly have no dearth of tiny complaints against her almost every hour of the day, let anyone else scold her - even us - and you become her tender protector. Whenever Abba and I threaten to punish her, we have to forget it because you plead with us with your brown spaniel eyes. And you play with her very nicely when you want to, and help her so beautifully with her activities. I love to see the look of genuine pride in your eyes when she does an activity correctly. You're also very good with Bojjandi. You're very gentle with him, and on the rare occasions so far that I've yelled at him, as usual, you've dashed to his rescue. You look out for toys and books to give him and don't mind him trailing along behind you. You're so excited when he learns something new!
I love the way you concentrate on your work. On Republic Day when you played the Casio for the National Anthem and the National Song, what amazed everyone who watched you was the focus with which you did it, oblivious to the crowd staring at you. Even when you're reading you're the same.
And I love how passionate you are about everything you do, whether it's dinosaurs or ben 10, pokemon or cricket. Last year you were convinced that somewhere in America, I could buy you the real Ben 10 watch and you could turn into ten different aliens. This year it's all about Pokemon and how calvados evolved into rampados and who stole your 'legendary'. Your telephone conversations with your friends are very cute, because they are so innocent, to-the-point and so focussed on Pokemon.
Despite all your reading and your activities and exposure, by and large you are still a wide-eyed little boy. You still believe in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus and all manner of fairy folk. I'm sure you really hope that one day you'll find the magic Wishing Chair and the Magic Faraway Tree. You still snuggle up to us, even though you've become too big to be unselfconscious about kissing us anymore.
It makes me so proud of you when moms of your classmates come up to me and compliment me on your reading ability, or the facts you come up with in class, or say that you're one kid with whom they can have a proper conversation about anything, or that their child says you are his best friend. At the moment you have an aversion to girls which is mutual, so no girls are making a best pal of you yet...but I'm sure that'll change!
Chubbocks baby, on this and every other birthday, I have the same wishes. That you keep this enthusiasm for life. That you wake up each day feeling excited to start a new day. That the world does nothing to destroy your illusions and innocence.
I love you with all my heart.
TWMITU
How time flies...I can't believe my little chubbu-bubbu is seven years old already. I still remember you as a baby, flashing that lovely eyes and heart open grin that captivated everybody - even strangers on the street would stop, ruffle your hair and smile back. I remember that diapered baby-butt shaking fiercely to Jee Jee Doh - the first sign of your musicality. I remember what a shy boy you used to be, and how slowly, gradually, Jimmy, manu and the other teachers at Julia Gabriel drew you out until you truly became a confident communicator. And how, at every class, the minute Manu pulled out the Casio, everyone knew you;d ask for the Monkey song. Your first ever complete sentence was so characteristic: "Abba, what are you doing my face!" And the first word you learnt the spelling of, from hearing Abba and me saying it in code, when you were merely two years old - M-I-L-K!
You have become such a wonderful little boy and I constantly marvel at you. I know, on a daily basis, we just get exasperated with your early morning dawdling and your teasing of your sister, forgetting little things and eating too slowly. But when we sit down to think about you, there are just so many things I love about you and that make me proud of you.
One of the most endearing things you do is the way you look after your pandas. Even Puddi's one that you adopted after she stopped caring for it. Every night, you make sure their heads rest comfortably on the little herbal cushion and that they are as well covered by your blanket as you are. Even on family sleep nights, you make sure they are made part of the family.
You also look after your siblings pretty well. While you love to tease Puddi and certainly have no dearth of tiny complaints against her almost every hour of the day, let anyone else scold her - even us - and you become her tender protector. Whenever Abba and I threaten to punish her, we have to forget it because you plead with us with your brown spaniel eyes. And you play with her very nicely when you want to, and help her so beautifully with her activities. I love to see the look of genuine pride in your eyes when she does an activity correctly. You're also very good with Bojjandi. You're very gentle with him, and on the rare occasions so far that I've yelled at him, as usual, you've dashed to his rescue. You look out for toys and books to give him and don't mind him trailing along behind you. You're so excited when he learns something new!
I love the way you concentrate on your work. On Republic Day when you played the Casio for the National Anthem and the National Song, what amazed everyone who watched you was the focus with which you did it, oblivious to the crowd staring at you. Even when you're reading you're the same.
And I love how passionate you are about everything you do, whether it's dinosaurs or ben 10, pokemon or cricket. Last year you were convinced that somewhere in America, I could buy you the real Ben 10 watch and you could turn into ten different aliens. This year it's all about Pokemon and how calvados evolved into rampados and who stole your 'legendary'. Your telephone conversations with your friends are very cute, because they are so innocent, to-the-point and so focussed on Pokemon.
Despite all your reading and your activities and exposure, by and large you are still a wide-eyed little boy. You still believe in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus and all manner of fairy folk. I'm sure you really hope that one day you'll find the magic Wishing Chair and the Magic Faraway Tree. You still snuggle up to us, even though you've become too big to be unselfconscious about kissing us anymore.
It makes me so proud of you when moms of your classmates come up to me and compliment me on your reading ability, or the facts you come up with in class, or say that you're one kid with whom they can have a proper conversation about anything, or that their child says you are his best friend. At the moment you have an aversion to girls which is mutual, so no girls are making a best pal of you yet...but I'm sure that'll change!
Chubbocks baby, on this and every other birthday, I have the same wishes. That you keep this enthusiasm for life. That you wake up each day feeling excited to start a new day. That the world does nothing to destroy your illusions and innocence.
I love you with all my heart.
TWMITU
Monday, March 30, 2009
Why I Hate Lawyers
We've never had a good experience with lawyers. Way back there was the one whom we had contacted when we wanted to get married – we wanted to get her to register the marriage. She quoted a cost of some Rs. 25000, of which she claimed the bulk would be bribes paid to sundry people. We decided we weren't that rich and went for the direct route and accomplished it in the grand sum of Rs. 650 or so. Then last year there was a shocking incident in which some high-falutin partner in a legal firm's car hit our car from behind and he tried to bluster and bamboozle us into paying for his damages, threatening that he was going to keep us tied up in a court case for years so we could neither repair nor sell our car if we didn't pay up. And now, last Thursday's incident.
Our driver was driving Chubbocks home from the gate of the colony after school. As a treat, Chubbocks was sitting in the front passenger seat, since this was a drive within the colony compound and the speed limit within our colony is 15 kmph. Suddenly a Maruti 800 came speeding out of nowhere, bang down the middle of the road. Our driver was alert enough to pull our car as far to the side of the road as possible, but even then the Maruti 800 banged our Baleno hard enough to make dents in the bumper and the side. If it hadn't been for our driver's presence of mind, both he and Chubbocks could have been badly hurt, if not worse. The 800 then went on to bang itself into a light pole and was quite badly smashed.
It turned out the 800 belonged to a resident of our colony, a Mr. Thakur who is a Supreme Court lawyer. The car was being driven by his 15 year old servant who had no training in driving. As soon as I heard of the incident I went across to this lawyer's house, and A visited him the next morning. Both times, his whole concern was to say that he has no liability since the liability is vicarious as he was not driving the car himself, and that the servant was underage so he could not be charged. There was no 'sorry about the incident', no 'I understand your concern, your child could have been killed', no acknowledgement of the fact that we had a right to be angry.
There's no human side to this man at all. Just constant bluster coupled with irrelevant information like the fact that his son is with KPMG and his daughter with Penguin. I mean, I wouldn't care if his daughter was a penguin, how is that germane to the issue that you first of all have an underage servant working in your home in defiance of labour laws, secondly that this servant got away with your car keys and caused what potentially could have been a fatal accident. Just the endless legalese about how he doesn't need to offer to pay a penny for repairs to our car because he has no liability. With lawyers like that I can totally understand how our legal system is so messed up.
And now, A and I are scared to have Chubbocks ride his new cycle around the colony or walk by himself to the park, because we don't know how many other neighbours have underage servant joyriding recklessly.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Baby - Boy
Sometimes I think Chubbocks is really growing up. He's already six years old and many a time he displays more wisdom than his mom. Like last night, for instance, or should I say early this morning, when for the nth night in a row Bojjandi was creating a ruckus and preventing me from getting more than 5 seconds of sleep at a time. I couldn't help but burst out, "Keep quiet, you stupid baby!" A sleepy Chubbocks pipes up from his bed on the mattress on our floor, "He's not stupid!"
And then there are other times when I realize he's still a small little boy, even though he's a big brother who sticks up for his siblings. Like when he goes to a friend's house for a playdate, starts missing us and calls us with tears in his voice to check when we're picking him up. Or Rusky…
His school has this cute thing where each class has a stuffed toy for a mascot and each child in the class gets to bring the mascot home for an overnight stay and write about his/ her adventures with Rusky. Chubbocks had turned out to be quite attached to Rusky. I recently made a donation to WWF and in return got 3 stuffed pandas, one for each child. Chubbocks promptly named his Rusky and now can't be parted from him at any price at night. Before going to sleep, he makes sure that Rusky is curled up in his arms and well-covered by the quilt. Even when he accidentally wakes up at night, he has a quick look to make sure Rusky's okay before he settles back to sleep…
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
About a Boy...
This is a rambling post about Chubbocks, my first baby who's not such a baby any more.
Chubbocks has been quite amazing the last few weeks. Now when he gets dressed to go to school, he looks like a proper little schoolboy, not my little bhondu ram any more. Last weekend, his swimming lessons began. He has always loved water and I remember one time we took him swimming when he was two, he instinctively moved his arms and legs in the correct manner. But we haven't managed to be regular at the pool, between my various pregnancies and the weird summers we've been having in Delhi, more rain than sun. So when the school announced swimming lessons on weekends, we were overjoyed. All the more because last summer he fell into the deep end of the pool when we were on vacation ( details on my travel blog) and even though I pulled him out in about half a heartbeat, he has been too scared to venture inside without his water wings.
Of course, we arrived at the lessons to find the school had made a mix-up and that he was scheduled for a lesson between 3-4 pm though they had told us 4-5 pm. Anyhow, they agreed to hold the first lesson late for him and 3-4 other kids that day. He was a mixture of thrill and fear as the lifeguard lowered him in. For the first couple of minutes he clung nervously to the ladder, too scared to let go even when the instructor took hold of him. Then I encouraged him and in he went, to hold on to the side and practice kicking. I don't think this was what he had envisaged when told about swim lessons - he had thought he'd be put there doing fancy strokes in the deep end. But he was quite excited about it all the same and game for the next day's lessons. The next day, the instructor got him to try an overhead stroke...it was a hilarious sight. Our pal had obviously seen me or other people swim overarm so he busily imitated the side to side head movement but so fast that he looked dizzy, while completely forgetting to kick his legs at all. After day one, his arms and legs were aching and I told him that was a sign that he was building up his muscles. So of course, the rest of the weekend, we had to measure his biceps every five minutes or so and comment on how big they were getting. he's quite excited about the rest of his swimming lessons and I'm hoping for warm weather weekends, for the first time in my life, so they can go on apace.
He's also getting to be a big boy so on Sunday when I had to go do the grocery shopping for the month as A was laid up, I roped him in to push the second grocery cart around. I had to forewarn him that he wouldn't get to ride in the cart shaped like a car since I needed him to help me shop. He was amazingly good about it, steering his cart carefully all over the store, lugging packages back and forth to load it up and not once complaining about either being bored or tired. It was, on the other hand, shocking to see how rudely people in India treat kids. Forget anyone smiling at the plucky boy helping out, but people had no compunctions shoving their carts alongside, bumping into him and not even saying sorry, pushing his cart away and carrying on. At one point, he was coming out of an aisle, and an old gentleman was coming the other way. We had right of way since we were heading for the cash till, but this rude old guy, who must have been a sextagenarian at least, pushed his cart at Chubbocks' cart really hard, so the little guy almost fell, and pushed him all the way back into the aisle and rudely brushed on past. I've been brought up with a respect for the aged and a belief in being polite to them but in the past couple of weeks, this is the second instance when I've noticed that they aren't any more polite or well-mannered than the average Delhi-ite.
On Friday evenings, Chubbocks stays over at my parents' house. This Friday he came over to retrieve the book he had brought home from the school library. "It's very funny, mamma", he said, and sat down to read aloud the entire book to me. He has read one Ladybird beginning reader before but only with help, so it was thrilling to see him read this all by himself, with the right emphasis and intonations - I got goosebumps. Then, yesterday, we sent him up to bed in his room while we finished up our meal. We went up a good fifteen minutes after him to find him busily reading aloud to himself from a 'Caillou' book. It's a good 10-12 page book, and he was on the penultimate page when we reached. He looked up shyly, blushed but carried on till he finished it before he curled up for the night. I can't find the words to explain how amazing it makes me feel to see him reading all by himself and showing such a joy in the act of reading. For both A and me, reading is the breath of life, so it's nice to find evidence of heredity. More than that, I find myself thrilling in advance at all the wonderful adventures he has ahead of him in the world of books...It won't be long before he's reading this blog and cribbing or blushing about whatever I've said...!
Chubbocks has been quite amazing the last few weeks. Now when he gets dressed to go to school, he looks like a proper little schoolboy, not my little bhondu ram any more. Last weekend, his swimming lessons began. He has always loved water and I remember one time we took him swimming when he was two, he instinctively moved his arms and legs in the correct manner. But we haven't managed to be regular at the pool, between my various pregnancies and the weird summers we've been having in Delhi, more rain than sun. So when the school announced swimming lessons on weekends, we were overjoyed. All the more because last summer he fell into the deep end of the pool when we were on vacation ( details on my travel blog) and even though I pulled him out in about half a heartbeat, he has been too scared to venture inside without his water wings.
Of course, we arrived at the lessons to find the school had made a mix-up and that he was scheduled for a lesson between 3-4 pm though they had told us 4-5 pm. Anyhow, they agreed to hold the first lesson late for him and 3-4 other kids that day. He was a mixture of thrill and fear as the lifeguard lowered him in. For the first couple of minutes he clung nervously to the ladder, too scared to let go even when the instructor took hold of him. Then I encouraged him and in he went, to hold on to the side and practice kicking. I don't think this was what he had envisaged when told about swim lessons - he had thought he'd be put there doing fancy strokes in the deep end. But he was quite excited about it all the same and game for the next day's lessons. The next day, the instructor got him to try an overhead stroke...it was a hilarious sight. Our pal had obviously seen me or other people swim overarm so he busily imitated the side to side head movement but so fast that he looked dizzy, while completely forgetting to kick his legs at all. After day one, his arms and legs were aching and I told him that was a sign that he was building up his muscles. So of course, the rest of the weekend, we had to measure his biceps every five minutes or so and comment on how big they were getting. he's quite excited about the rest of his swimming lessons and I'm hoping for warm weather weekends, for the first time in my life, so they can go on apace.
He's also getting to be a big boy so on Sunday when I had to go do the grocery shopping for the month as A was laid up, I roped him in to push the second grocery cart around. I had to forewarn him that he wouldn't get to ride in the cart shaped like a car since I needed him to help me shop. He was amazingly good about it, steering his cart carefully all over the store, lugging packages back and forth to load it up and not once complaining about either being bored or tired. It was, on the other hand, shocking to see how rudely people in India treat kids. Forget anyone smiling at the plucky boy helping out, but people had no compunctions shoving their carts alongside, bumping into him and not even saying sorry, pushing his cart away and carrying on. At one point, he was coming out of an aisle, and an old gentleman was coming the other way. We had right of way since we were heading for the cash till, but this rude old guy, who must have been a sextagenarian at least, pushed his cart at Chubbocks' cart really hard, so the little guy almost fell, and pushed him all the way back into the aisle and rudely brushed on past. I've been brought up with a respect for the aged and a belief in being polite to them but in the past couple of weeks, this is the second instance when I've noticed that they aren't any more polite or well-mannered than the average Delhi-ite.
On Friday evenings, Chubbocks stays over at my parents' house. This Friday he came over to retrieve the book he had brought home from the school library. "It's very funny, mamma", he said, and sat down to read aloud the entire book to me. He has read one Ladybird beginning reader before but only with help, so it was thrilling to see him read this all by himself, with the right emphasis and intonations - I got goosebumps. Then, yesterday, we sent him up to bed in his room while we finished up our meal. We went up a good fifteen minutes after him to find him busily reading aloud to himself from a 'Caillou' book. It's a good 10-12 page book, and he was on the penultimate page when we reached. He looked up shyly, blushed but carried on till he finished it before he curled up for the night. I can't find the words to explain how amazing it makes me feel to see him reading all by himself and showing such a joy in the act of reading. For both A and me, reading is the breath of life, so it's nice to find evidence of heredity. More than that, I find myself thrilling in advance at all the wonderful adventures he has ahead of him in the world of books...It won't be long before he's reading this blog and cribbing or blushing about whatever I've said...!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Chubbocks Battles a T-Rex
This is the T-Rex we psyched Madmomma out with, among other visitors to our place! He gets his histrionic talent from me, natch!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Falling in love
I thought I was done. I thought I had reached the limit of falling in love with Chubbocks...and then he does these little heart-melty things which turn me into a giant puddle of mush and have me falling in love with him all over again...
I got home with a terrible lower back ache yesterday. This happens with every pregnancy ( gee, I sound like I've been through half a dozen, doesn't it?) - my tail bones start aching so badly that at times I wonder if I'll be able to sit up from lying down or stand up from a sitting position. I was in agony and hours of sitting down for work hadn't helped. Chubbocks was most concerned when he saw me grimacing and groaning. Next thing I knew, every time I tried to get up from the sofa this little tyke was there, slipping his shoulder under mine to help me. He helped me all the way up the stairs and insisted on walking me into my bedroom and helping me to sit down before he went off to his own room. Later when I went to say Goodnight to him, he had tears in his soft brown eyes, he was so upset that I was in pain.
While I was having a much-belated dinner, he wanted to do some colouring so I asked him to write out a note and then colour it in. He wrote the sweetest little note, all by himself - it's making me feel ten feet tall to see him able to do this - all correct spellings and everything ( will post the pic here later). Then he drew a rocket with a huge heart on it, because "I love you so much". He gave me the note and the rocket picture to hold during the night in case I got scared!
He's finding it hard sometimes to transition from the guy who collared all the attention to having to share it with Puddi. From a time when the littlest thing he did was an achievement to one where a lot of what he does is now taken for granted and it's Puddi's achievement is quite a step. Yesterday evening, both he and Puds were taking turns to hang off the bar of the swing as if it was a monkey gym. A was taking pictures and my parents were cheering them both on ( I was at work, sadly). Chubbocks got in the way when A was trying to take pictures of Puddi swinging, and my mom pulled him to one side. Poor guy got terribly upset and went into his sulk mode - he sits in a corner, arms folded, head down. It's an adorable and yet heart-breaking pose. Then no one's coaxing worked to bring him out - until Puddi went and sat by him, patting his head and giving him kisses until he finally reverted to his usual sunshine.
Chubbocks sulks
Puddi is concerned
Finally she manages to make him look up again!
I love his enthusiasm for learning. He has new passions all the time. Some time ago, it was dinosaurs. We'd bought him a couple of books and videos and he loved watching them over and over, and even Puddi knows the names of a few Dinos now. Then it was a book called Your Body, which he made us read from end to end. Then a book called The Earth, and tornadoes became his turn-on du jour...Each time he picks up a new interest, he makes sure he learns a lot about it, asking all sorts of questions, flipping through the books by himself and practically memorising the contents. Then he cutely sits down with Puddi and explains things to her. It's quite a treat to see them sitting side by side in the morning, her favourite animals book open on his lap as he points to each one and teaches her their names. "I've made her a genius", he proclaimed proudly yesterday.
There are so many reasons that I love him more and more as the days go by...makes me look forward to every new day.
I got home with a terrible lower back ache yesterday. This happens with every pregnancy ( gee, I sound like I've been through half a dozen, doesn't it?) - my tail bones start aching so badly that at times I wonder if I'll be able to sit up from lying down or stand up from a sitting position. I was in agony and hours of sitting down for work hadn't helped. Chubbocks was most concerned when he saw me grimacing and groaning. Next thing I knew, every time I tried to get up from the sofa this little tyke was there, slipping his shoulder under mine to help me. He helped me all the way up the stairs and insisted on walking me into my bedroom and helping me to sit down before he went off to his own room. Later when I went to say Goodnight to him, he had tears in his soft brown eyes, he was so upset that I was in pain.
While I was having a much-belated dinner, he wanted to do some colouring so I asked him to write out a note and then colour it in. He wrote the sweetest little note, all by himself - it's making me feel ten feet tall to see him able to do this - all correct spellings and everything ( will post the pic here later). Then he drew a rocket with a huge heart on it, because "I love you so much". He gave me the note and the rocket picture to hold during the night in case I got scared!
He's finding it hard sometimes to transition from the guy who collared all the attention to having to share it with Puddi. From a time when the littlest thing he did was an achievement to one where a lot of what he does is now taken for granted and it's Puddi's achievement is quite a step. Yesterday evening, both he and Puds were taking turns to hang off the bar of the swing as if it was a monkey gym. A was taking pictures and my parents were cheering them both on ( I was at work, sadly). Chubbocks got in the way when A was trying to take pictures of Puddi swinging, and my mom pulled him to one side. Poor guy got terribly upset and went into his sulk mode - he sits in a corner, arms folded, head down. It's an adorable and yet heart-breaking pose. Then no one's coaxing worked to bring him out - until Puddi went and sat by him, patting his head and giving him kisses until he finally reverted to his usual sunshine.
Chubbocks sulks
Puddi is concerned
Finally she manages to make him look up again!
I love his enthusiasm for learning. He has new passions all the time. Some time ago, it was dinosaurs. We'd bought him a couple of books and videos and he loved watching them over and over, and even Puddi knows the names of a few Dinos now. Then it was a book called Your Body, which he made us read from end to end. Then a book called The Earth, and tornadoes became his turn-on du jour...Each time he picks up a new interest, he makes sure he learns a lot about it, asking all sorts of questions, flipping through the books by himself and practically memorising the contents. Then he cutely sits down with Puddi and explains things to her. It's quite a treat to see them sitting side by side in the morning, her favourite animals book open on his lap as he points to each one and teaches her their names. "I've made her a genius", he proclaimed proudly yesterday.
There are so many reasons that I love him more and more as the days go by...makes me look forward to every new day.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Milestones...
Today is Chubbocks's last day in nursery. The next time he goes to his school, he'll be a Kinder-gartener. I can't believe how fast the year has gone by. It seems like yesterday that we sent him off to school, a boy who looked way too little to be going off to spend half his day in a structured environment.
I still remember his playschool days, where he started out as a shy little thing who would rarely participate, to begin with, but sit back and relish each and every activity intensely. Then by and by he came out of his shell and began talking and contributing...until, towards the end of his first term, during the music sessions, all the other mothers and teachers would groan in advance, knowing he was going to request for his favourite Monkey song again!
I still remember his playschool days, where he started out as a shy little thing who would rarely participate, to begin with, but sit back and relish each and every activity intensely. Then by and by he came out of his shell and began talking and contributing...until, towards the end of his first term, during the music sessions, all the other mothers and teachers would groan in advance, knowing he was going to request for his favourite Monkey song again!
He goes off so confidently to school now, and has been begging me to let him go by bus like many of his friends, instead of by car. The same boy who, when shifted from Jimmy's class to one where the parent did not accompany the child, spent the entire first month crying heart-rendingly and ceaselessly. It used to tear me apart to sit outside the classroom and hear him screaming, "I want mamma...", his voice breaking. After a month of this, where we tried all options, from me dropping him off to his dad dropping him off to the maid dropping him off and sitting outside, we finally decided we couldn't take it and moved him back to Jimmy's class for another term, using the rest of the 2 months there to slowly habituate him to the concept of not having a parent in class. Even when he made the shift, for the first couple of weeks we had to make his maid stay outside the classroom just in case, so he could come out and come home whenever he wanted to.
This was the shy kid who hated performing in playschool and used to hang about at the back of his class whenever they put on a show. Once he started crying after a show because A had to leave for office and all his teachers thought I had been scolding him for not performing! I'm not sure they ever believed my explanation. And today, this kid is one of the most confident performers on stage. Whether he is making music with beans in a plastic jar, being a roaring lion in a circus or singing at the top of his sweet little voice, he's absolutely at home on stage and looks like he's having the time of his life up there. His teachers often point him out to each other while he's on stage, because his enthusiasm is so evident.
The phonetic method they were teaching at playschool and continued at big school have paid off. Yesterday he read aloud the headline of the cover story in the latest India Today magazine in seconds. This morning he wrote out a series of words on his doodlepad just because he wanted to see how they looked, and got most of them correct. Of course, there are times when the phonetic method creates peculiar scenarios - like when he proudly informed us that we were reading the Mint luun-jee one Saturday morning. But he's managed to read an entire book about lions by himself, even managing long words like 'dangerous'.
It's amazing to see how far he's come in just one year, and it's encouraging and a bit scary to think about the changes this next year will bring with it. Each time he does something independently, I feel a thrill of pride and a pang of separation. As he keeps growing and learning, I thoroughly enjoy his company all the more and yet wish he would remain my baby for a little longer. Ah, well, at least he's still only five.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Chubbock's Birthday
After all the weekends spent planning and all the worry about whether we were over or under doing it by comparison with his school friends, Chubbocks's birthday party is over. I find it hard to believe this little guy is already five and, according to Hindu tradition, no longer in the baby stage but the boy stage - Kaumarya. I was looking through our hundreds of digi-photos of him as a toddler and wishing I had pressed the freeze-frame button.
It was a slightly bizarre day. He woke up all cranky for some reason - usually he and Puddi wake up with a smile on their faces - and continued to be not his usual self all day. He was less full of beans than usual and less talkative, and for the life of us we haven't managed to figure out why.
The mood lasted all weekend, and we're wondering if perhaps he had been anticipating the party for too long, or whether he expected to look or feel different now that he had reached this mature stage. He did respond with his own bizarre logic, later, that he thought all his friends would turn 5 that day (???).
Anyway, since I was determined to make it a home-grown party, we were hosting it in a big park within our residential community. The people manning the Columbus came by 8 am, because it apparently takes them a few hours to get it assembled. I decided that not only did I have to cook the food for the party but that we also had to have a traditional birthday meal at home, with Chubs's favourite things, so I was in the kitchen from early on, churning out saaru ( his favourite) and lemon rice, while mom offered to make the payasa and the sabzi. I also had to churn out Bhaaji enough for about 50 people, as well as macaroni with veggies. Chubs had asked for Bhelpuri, so we had to keep the ingredients ready so that it could be made in the nick of time. We decided to order in some food to make it a little easier, so dhoklas and rasbhari ( mini-rasgullas soaked in sugar syrup) were ordered. My in-laws turned up, lugging the return gifts for the boys - a simple but fun toy that shoots discs into the air, like a modern-day Sudarshan Chakra, and we ran around packing those.
Let's just say it was a hectic day, between the powercuts and scheduling baths when we had hot water to the cooking and cleaning...we never got the time to run down to the park until it was almost time for the party, and I was horrified to find: a. A bunch of boys playing cricket in the middle of the park and having torn a nice, muddy, dusty strip out of the grass; b. The balloons still being put up; c. No chairs having been placed for the adults and d. Tons of dust from the commercial buildings surrounding the colony, which seem to have sprung up out of nowhere in the last couple of months. I like having things ready in plenty of time, so my BP must have rushed to all kinds of levels as I ran around waking up A and hustling chairs and tables out of our house and into the park. Thankfully, things just about fell into place by the time our guests arrived.
All in all, the party went well. The Columbus was not a sophisticated piece of equipment as I had feared, but more like something commandeered from a village fair,
but all the kids loved it and sat on it all together, which was just heart-warming. I wonder what it is, about the swing, that gets everyone hooked on. Of course, the people manning it had faulty wires and half the time there was no power so they were manually swinging it but the kids had fun. The puppet show guy was pretty good too, as he was really funny, rather than go all traditional, and we had a horse riding poor Amar Singh Rathod and a snake which used to get the more violent as the madaari played his been so the kids were screaming with laughter.
Eventually, despite the expense of the Columbus and tattoo artist et al, just the simple fact that we were holding the party in a neighbourhood park, without a fancy tent and that none of the chairs for the adults matched ( 6 of our dining chairs, 6 of my parents', our 8 garden chairs and assorted moodahs) made the atmosphere of the party just what I wanted - unsophisticated and ( that most hateful word used to describe marriageable women) homely. Of course, next year I want to invite more work upon myself by hosting it at home, by which time we'll hopefully have a larger home, to make it completely middle class. Everyone loved the food and wiped out most of it, including a rather large Spiderman cake.
As for Chubbocks, after a weekend full of silence, he has more or less reverted to his normal self. Puddi had lots of fun and danced more than the puppets, when the puppeteer sang and played his dholak, and looked too cute with braids and beads in her hair.
I think it's true that kids grow to expect that which we lead them to expect. I could see the kids having a good time chasing each other around the park and swinging away. They don't necessarily need expensive props and 'amusements' in order to have a good time - all they need is each other and some space. So that's going to be my aim for birthday parties from now on.
Ps. Will try and put up some pics later.
Pics added, as well as anti-jinx!
It was a slightly bizarre day. He woke up all cranky for some reason - usually he and Puddi wake up with a smile on their faces - and continued to be not his usual self all day. He was less full of beans than usual and less talkative, and for the life of us we haven't managed to figure out why.
The mood lasted all weekend, and we're wondering if perhaps he had been anticipating the party for too long, or whether he expected to look or feel different now that he had reached this mature stage. He did respond with his own bizarre logic, later, that he thought all his friends would turn 5 that day (???).
Anyway, since I was determined to make it a home-grown party, we were hosting it in a big park within our residential community. The people manning the Columbus came by 8 am, because it apparently takes them a few hours to get it assembled. I decided that not only did I have to cook the food for the party but that we also had to have a traditional birthday meal at home, with Chubs's favourite things, so I was in the kitchen from early on, churning out saaru ( his favourite) and lemon rice, while mom offered to make the payasa and the sabzi. I also had to churn out Bhaaji enough for about 50 people, as well as macaroni with veggies. Chubs had asked for Bhelpuri, so we had to keep the ingredients ready so that it could be made in the nick of time. We decided to order in some food to make it a little easier, so dhoklas and rasbhari ( mini-rasgullas soaked in sugar syrup) were ordered. My in-laws turned up, lugging the return gifts for the boys - a simple but fun toy that shoots discs into the air, like a modern-day Sudarshan Chakra, and we ran around packing those.
Let's just say it was a hectic day, between the powercuts and scheduling baths when we had hot water to the cooking and cleaning...we never got the time to run down to the park until it was almost time for the party, and I was horrified to find: a. A bunch of boys playing cricket in the middle of the park and having torn a nice, muddy, dusty strip out of the grass; b. The balloons still being put up; c. No chairs having been placed for the adults and d. Tons of dust from the commercial buildings surrounding the colony, which seem to have sprung up out of nowhere in the last couple of months. I like having things ready in plenty of time, so my BP must have rushed to all kinds of levels as I ran around waking up A and hustling chairs and tables out of our house and into the park. Thankfully, things just about fell into place by the time our guests arrived.
All in all, the party went well. The Columbus was not a sophisticated piece of equipment as I had feared, but more like something commandeered from a village fair,
but all the kids loved it and sat on it all together, which was just heart-warming. I wonder what it is, about the swing, that gets everyone hooked on. Of course, the people manning it had faulty wires and half the time there was no power so they were manually swinging it but the kids had fun. The puppet show guy was pretty good too, as he was really funny, rather than go all traditional, and we had a horse riding poor Amar Singh Rathod and a snake which used to get the more violent as the madaari played his been so the kids were screaming with laughter.Eventually, despite the expense of the Columbus and tattoo artist et al, just the simple fact that we were holding the party in a neighbourhood park, without a fancy tent and that none of the chairs for the adults matched ( 6 of our dining chairs, 6 of my parents', our 8 garden chairs and assorted moodahs) made the atmosphere of the party just what I wanted - unsophisticated and ( that most hateful word used to describe marriageable women) homely. Of course, next year I want to invite more work upon myself by hosting it at home, by which time we'll hopefully have a larger home, to make it completely middle class. Everyone loved the food and wiped out most of it, including a rather large Spiderman cake.
As for Chubbocks, after a weekend full of silence, he has more or less reverted to his normal self. Puddi had lots of fun and danced more than the puppets, when the puppeteer sang and played his dholak, and looked too cute with braids and beads in her hair.
I think it's true that kids grow to expect that which we lead them to expect. I could see the kids having a good time chasing each other around the park and swinging away. They don't necessarily need expensive props and 'amusements' in order to have a good time - all they need is each other and some space. So that's going to be my aim for birthday parties from now on.
Ps. Will try and put up some pics later.
Pics added, as well as anti-jinx!
Friday, February 8, 2008
Puddi's illness and what we learned from it
Puddi fell badly ill with some gastro-enteric + something else viral infection last week and wound up having to be hospitalised for five days last week. The whole episode was traumatic, and though she seems to be bouncing back with the resilience only children have, we know she's still traumatised by the way she howls when put into her crib at night. I think she fears having the drip inserted again.
It started with a simple episode of her throwing up early morning. We thought it was because she had been too warmly covered - A and I do tend to err on the side of caution, because she and her brother have a habit of kicking off their bedcovering. That evening when I came back from work, I found she had a fever. I took the next day off and took her down to the paediatrician who said it looked like a simple viral which sometimes causes throwing-up episodes and prescribed an emetic and fever SOS medication. She was ok that day and managed to keep her food down after the emetic, though she had less than her usually healthy appetite.
The next morning she threw up again so A took her to see the paediatrician that morning. She was prescribed an additional antibiotic and seemed ok by lunch when he left for work. By afternoon, she had raging fever of 104 and had to be sponged down. Mom called me and I rushed home in a panic, because she had also been throwing up everything, including water.
I had had an uneasy feeling since the first time she had thrown up that this was a gastric bug. I don't know why because she's been through a fever/ viral once before that involved throwing up but this time, I had an instinctive fear. We figured the next morning would be too late so we called the paediatrician and she asked us to rush Puds to the hospital. Once there, she was promptly hooked up to the drip as she was mildly dehydrated, and then it was a series of gloomy up-and-down days when she would throw up, dislodge the most hideously watery and green potty and lie moaning piteously all day.
It was really sad to watch this perpetual motion machine tied down to the bed and not just not protesting but lying there not moving. From someone who chatters all day, always has a naughty twinkle in her eye, moving her cute little fanny from side to side when music plays and being the family dog, i.e. begging everyone to give her a taste of whatever they are eating or drinking, she turned into a 'goongi gudiya' - a mute doll who just lay apathetically, said no to any form of oral nutrition including water which we otherwise have to keep far out of her reach, shook her head negatively when music played and stopped speaking, apart from heart-rending little moans. She lost a good 25% of her body weight in 2 days and now weighs as much as she did when she was a year old.
Thankfully she's back at home, being her usual nutty self - the family dog in action, wiggling her butt to the tinny sound of every television advertisement she hears, playing tricks and stealing water. Most of her clothes are somewhat loose for her now, but I guess that's a matter of time, especially if she has my genes and genius for gaining weight.
What did we learn from this?
....To always err on the side of panic when it comes to the kids' health and well-being. No matter how good a doctor is, they don't know your child as you do and won't be able to read the signs of an inarticulate sick child as you can. Never try and brave it out or fear being a nuisance to the doctor - you should be one when it comes to the kids...
...To listen to your instinct when it tells you something. I keep telling myself this when I quiz but it's a good life lesson as well. I should have had her stool and urine checked up immediately after she threw up the first time, when something told me this was serious...
...That family is the most important thing in life ( in case we had forgotten that). It comes before everything else - friends, money, career, status ( if you care about it)...absolutely before everything else...
...That you should have a paediatrician closer home. Ours lives half an hour away but I want someone within 10 minutes...
...That eternity is the definition of the time it takes you to get your sick child to the hospital. I almost couldn't breathe during the drive to the hospital.
...That protective instinct is the term attributed to my willingness that evening to singlehandedly blow up all other cars off the road so I could race her to hospital sooner...
...That Chubbocks is an amazingly sensitive boy and no matter how grown-up he seems sometimes, he needs to be treated with extra love and care...
It started with a simple episode of her throwing up early morning. We thought it was because she had been too warmly covered - A and I do tend to err on the side of caution, because she and her brother have a habit of kicking off their bedcovering. That evening when I came back from work, I found she had a fever. I took the next day off and took her down to the paediatrician who said it looked like a simple viral which sometimes causes throwing-up episodes and prescribed an emetic and fever SOS medication. She was ok that day and managed to keep her food down after the emetic, though she had less than her usually healthy appetite.
The next morning she threw up again so A took her to see the paediatrician that morning. She was prescribed an additional antibiotic and seemed ok by lunch when he left for work. By afternoon, she had raging fever of 104 and had to be sponged down. Mom called me and I rushed home in a panic, because she had also been throwing up everything, including water.
I had had an uneasy feeling since the first time she had thrown up that this was a gastric bug. I don't know why because she's been through a fever/ viral once before that involved throwing up but this time, I had an instinctive fear. We figured the next morning would be too late so we called the paediatrician and she asked us to rush Puds to the hospital. Once there, she was promptly hooked up to the drip as she was mildly dehydrated, and then it was a series of gloomy up-and-down days when she would throw up, dislodge the most hideously watery and green potty and lie moaning piteously all day.
It was really sad to watch this perpetual motion machine tied down to the bed and not just not protesting but lying there not moving. From someone who chatters all day, always has a naughty twinkle in her eye, moving her cute little fanny from side to side when music plays and being the family dog, i.e. begging everyone to give her a taste of whatever they are eating or drinking, she turned into a 'goongi gudiya' - a mute doll who just lay apathetically, said no to any form of oral nutrition including water which we otherwise have to keep far out of her reach, shook her head negatively when music played and stopped speaking, apart from heart-rending little moans. She lost a good 25% of her body weight in 2 days and now weighs as much as she did when she was a year old.
Thankfully she's back at home, being her usual nutty self - the family dog in action, wiggling her butt to the tinny sound of every television advertisement she hears, playing tricks and stealing water. Most of her clothes are somewhat loose for her now, but I guess that's a matter of time, especially if she has my genes and genius for gaining weight.
What did we learn from this?
....To always err on the side of panic when it comes to the kids' health and well-being. No matter how good a doctor is, they don't know your child as you do and won't be able to read the signs of an inarticulate sick child as you can. Never try and brave it out or fear being a nuisance to the doctor - you should be one when it comes to the kids...
...To listen to your instinct when it tells you something. I keep telling myself this when I quiz but it's a good life lesson as well. I should have had her stool and urine checked up immediately after she threw up the first time, when something told me this was serious...
...That family is the most important thing in life ( in case we had forgotten that). It comes before everything else - friends, money, career, status ( if you care about it)...absolutely before everything else...
...That you should have a paediatrician closer home. Ours lives half an hour away but I want someone within 10 minutes...
...That eternity is the definition of the time it takes you to get your sick child to the hospital. I almost couldn't breathe during the drive to the hospital.
...That protective instinct is the term attributed to my willingness that evening to singlehandedly blow up all other cars off the road so I could race her to hospital sooner...
...That Chubbocks is an amazingly sensitive boy and no matter how grown-up he seems sometimes, he needs to be treated with extra love and care...
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