Little Star

Summy's school has a star system in which kids get stars everyday for good behavior. When they get enough stars, they get to visit a "treasure box" and pick a small prize.

She picked a tiny picture of a kitten in a frame. She gave it to me and told me to keep it. So I said, "Oh no, Summy, you keep it. You earned it."

Her reply: "Mommy, I earned it for you."

She's also earned a tiny phone book for Kiran.

Deja Vu

Today I stayed to watch Assembly at school. Across the oceans, across a generation, Assembly is exactly the same here as it was in my school when I was a kid. It's partly exhilarating (as long as the marching music is on and the songs are sung) and partly boring (with the principal's messages to not run in the hallways and the older kids reading essays).

When I went to school, I was the one who always forgot things. I forgot to bring my textbooks, notebooks, homework to school. I forgot to bring my lunch box, water bottle, back home. I was late half the time. Luckily I have a mother who was (and is) very organized and wouldn't forget a thing.

Now that it's my turn to be the cool, calm, collected mother, I'm even more flustered. I forget to send the water bottle one day, the library book the other. The day before, as I walked her to school, I realized that I left her fully-packed backpack at home. And if it's hard being the kid who always forgets things, can you imagine how hard it is to be the mother who has to explain to the teacher that she forgot the whole backpack at home - lunch, absence note, homework, and all?

I am grown up with a child of my own, but talking to a teacher still makes me nervous. Can I say that?

Mickey Mouse

We see Mickey almost every Sunday at Disneyland - original and authentic. But Summy always hides behind me and Kiran when he comes too close. She is scared and suspicious of people in costumes.

But the other day, on Hollywood Boulevard, among the Elvises and Marilyn Monroes, there was a Mickey Mouse in a threadbare costume. He was posing for photos with kids, for a dollar or so. She goes right up to him, gets a picture, gives him a hug, and then tells him, "Mickey, I see you on TV."

Kinder'gardener'

Little sunflower that Summy planted, and cared for by herself, and is very proud of.

There is a small patio attached to the apartment, and out there are some pots, soil, shovel, watering can, seeds, and freedom to plant what she wants and get as dirty as she likes. As a result, we've had lots of flowers, and a bumper crop of tomatoes (considering that there were just two tomato plants growing in a very narrow strip of dirt along the patio fence).

When she heard the word "Kindergartener" on TV, she reasoned out - "Well, I go to Kindergarten, and I'm a gardener - so I guess I'm a Kinder'gardener'."

Sweet Holiday

Until Kindergarten started, I didn't realize that school meant going everyday - she cannot just stay home when we feel like it.

So when it was her first holiday from school yesterday, we made it a fun day. She wanted to make cupcakes from scratch, so we found a recipe, she wrote a shopping list, and we went grocery shopping. Then we made cupcakes, and while they baked, watched a princess movie together. We ended the day with going to the park.

First Homework: Self Portrait

(Birds and Flowers optional)

Artist at Work

Kindergarten

Finally started going to Kindergarten last Thursday. The little lady did not seem especially excited, but took it in stride. She walked with me to school as if she'd always been doing it.

We found the classroom. There were chairs around two tables, with new pencilboxes on the tables with the children's names on them. Right away, she found the box with her name, and sat in the chair to check it out. She glowed a little on finding a brand new box of crayons, a pencil, and scissors inside.

Their teacher gave them coloring pages while she talked to the parents and explained procedures and rules. Then it was time for us to leave.

Here was where she was to cry and cling to me, I was supposed to hold back tears while reassuring her I would be back later.

I remember the Kindergarten kids in my own school would cry for the whole first month. The whole Kindergarten area would be full of sniffling and wailing cuties.

Except, she is now five and a half years old, and we already had that tearful scene more than four years ago in daycare.

So, I said bye. She ignored me. I said I would be back later, and gave her a hug. And then I was gone. She was in school by herself. Just like that. Coloring a picture with the same pout that she had on when focusing on something, ever since she was a baby.

I went back to pick her up at the school gate. I have to wait there until she sees me and tells her teacher I'm there. Then we walked back home, while she told me about her new classroom, her new teacher, her new friend, and (last but not least) her new pencil box.

Only after four days, today she confessed to me. "Before I went to this new school, I was a little scared how the new school would be. But now I am not." I am surprised that the little babbler, who can't keep one thought that enters her head from escaping through her mouth, would keep this to herself for so long.

So, school is going well. I enjoy the walk with her to school, with her backpack and her lunch bag. She enjoys being among kids again.

There are a few dark moments, like when I realized that the gates would close at 8:40 AM and if I brought her to school later than that, she would get a tardy slip. The nightmares from my childhood are back again, as I procrastinate as usual and run at the last minute(this time, with Summy) to rush into the gate before it closes up like in an Indiana Jones movie.

I still remember me being late atleast once every week, waiting outside the gates, and the gates finally opening to let out Sister Romana (our principal), running after us into school while waving a long ruler menacingly (while managing to never actually hit anybody with it).

Ah, school days are back for me too. I still carry the weight of unfinished homework, in the form of paperwork that her teacher is sending home every week for me to finish.

It's wonderful to see Summy as a Kindergarten kid.

Hairy Pot

When she said, "He looks like Hairy Pot.", pointing to a boy wearing glasses, I had no idea what she meant for a minute.

It was Harry Potter.

Swimming

Here to log a milestone.

After going to swim classes for four weeks, Summy is swimming with her head under water for a few feet at a stretch, with no floaties or other support. Watching her holding her breath for so long, makes me breathless.

She has to learn a lot of things, the first being coming up to take a breath. But still, it is exciting to see her do something that I've never done myself.

Bhel Puri

It's been over a month since Summy and I got to Hyderabad. In fact, in a couple of weeks, it will be time to leave. Obviously, I had a lot more to write and remember about than the measly two posts than I put in.

Ever since we started on our long flight from Los Angeles to Hyderabad, I've been typing away in my head, but little of it got far enough to make it to this blog (which might be a good thing after all).

I remember only a few of the most interesting details of our travel and our stay.

One day, Summy brought home a couple of small kids from next door, while my mother and I were out. She looked at my father and ordered, "Make Boost, Thatha!" When her grandfather told her he didn't know where the Boost was and to wait for grandma, she went in the kitchen, got out some Pringles and served them to her pint-sized guests. She usually doesn't let any of her friends leave without having a snack.

Another time, while we were with Kiran's parents, she asked Kiran's father to play hide-and-seek. My father-in-law dutifully hid behind some curtains. Summy looked about a little before asking her grandma where her grandpa was. Not knowing what was going on, her grandma replied that she didn't know.

After hiding behind the curtains for as long as he could stand, grandpa came out, and what did he find? Summy had forgotten all about the game and was picking flowers in the yard with her grandma.

Summy's taken to India like she has been here all along.

Summy roams the flats, goes off to find her friends by herself (which was unthinkable back in California), and her friends come home without having to make a date first. This is the way it always was for me when I was a kid, but it is a first for Summy. Thanks to her friends, Summy's English is now more Indian than mine.

I too have taken to being here quite well. I cross roads, go around in autos, talk in a mix of Telugu, Hindi, Urdu and English.

Hyderabad is spicy - a mix of people, traffic, pollution, honking, colorful clothes, shoving, rudeness, and when you least expect it, the kindness of strangers.

The USA, even colorful South California, is much more bland.The orderliness that makes it looks like a wonderful place to live, also makes it taste like Dry Crackers compared to the Bhel Puri that is Hyderabad.

Still, Summy and I look forward to going back home, where Kiran waits impatiently for us.

Crossing Over to the Other Side

We are still in Hyderabad.

I was crossing the dangerously and terrifyingly chaotic Ameerpet intersection today.

Some businesses say "The customer is always right.". In Hyderabad, the slogan goes (or should): The pedestrian is always wrong. So what if the traffic signal is at red? So what if I'm on the zebra crossing lines? Bikes, autos, cars, buses honk indignantly as I cross the road, because I obstruct them moving an inch or two further.

Someone touched my elbow. I expected somebody I knew, but this was a young girl I'd never seen before. We stepped across the road together. A car came perilously close, and as far as we could tell, the driver cared as much for our safety as for that of a couple of bugs.

Involuntarily we grabbed each other's hand and squeezed tight. After that we held hands as we crossed the road, and smiled before going our separate ways.

Old Friends

We are in India.

While Summy has fun with her old friends, her grandparents, I had the chance to meet three of my own old friends. One of them, I had the luck to live close to for several recent years. I hadn't seen another of them in a long time. Another one, she remembered that the last time we had seen each other was twelve years ago. I was newly wed and was getting on a train to Mumbai and to my in-laws house, to go onward to the USA to study, and she was waving at me. Now they all have two kids each, most of whom I had read eagerly about but had never seen before.

They knew things about me and hadn't forgotten. When I faked knowledge of something, my old friend laughed and said, "I know she knows as much of it as I do (which was precious little)". There is no fooling old friends, and there is relief in not having to.

Ocean Art

At the bottom is the ocean, and in the ocean is seaweed. Looking closely, waves can be seen on surface of the water.

To the left, there is a sand beach, beyond the sand are some trees. The little pink angel like figure next to the trees is Summy.

To the right is a cliff. On the edge of the cliff is a car, enjoying the scenic view. The cliff is quite tall, so there is a cloud passing right past the car.

The sun is setting, and colorful birds are flying home in the sky. To add a touch of fantasy, the purple splotch above the sun is Chitti Chitti Bang Bang (the flying car from the movie of that name).

The art was done at school when the kids were given paints and paper, and a free hand to make what they wanted.



Here she is in one of the places that give her inspiration.

Solemn Pledge

This morning, Summy put her right hand on her heart, and started to recite:

"I plejjalleeshance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republics of Justin Stan, One nation, Underdog, The Invisibles, for all."

She told me she learned it at school.

For reference, here is the more conventional version of the pledge of allegiance:

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Patiosphere

We have a wild little yard, considering that all the yard we got is a little concrete patio attached to our apartment.

It's much easier to maintain and enjoy a small yard, I think. When we had a (relatively) huge backyard, every plant that I touched dried and withered away. Except the mint, which grew into a mint jungle and started to take over the lawn.

Anyway, I'm wandering.

We have a few pots of plants that Summy and I maintain painstakingly. I had no idea how many pests want a piece of the plants. We dealt with aphids, ants, mildew, unwanted mushrooms, and caterpillars, all as humanely as possible (except the mushrooms, which make my skin crawl).

So we now have a few flowers blooming, and a couple of strawberry plants producing fruit at the rate of about one a week (which is great, but we supplement our one homegrown strawberry with four quarts of strawberries from the market every week). A few tomato plants starting to flower, some herbs, hot pepper plants in various stages, and a few snow pea vines that some mystery creature is eating up.

Most of these things were planted by Summy. She does not read the instructions on seed packets, she does not do research online, but somehow she gets it right if left to herself with some dirt and water.

That's it for the Flora. As for the Fauna:

We had a small wasp's nest on the fence that we took out. The wasps started working on a new one right away, and it was fascinating to see. We haven't yet had the heart to take down their new nest. They are peaceful and hardworking creatures.

We found a caterpillar having lunch on a strawberry leaf, and he got put into a bowl with dirt and leaves in it. Summy watched the caterpillar very carefully, but after looking down at all the leaves, the caterpillar decided this place wasn't for him and escaped while she wasn't looking. Ofcourse he got named before he left - Fuzzy.

We have a couple of spiders that spin the most beautiful webs. I take the webs down every now and then, just because they make the patio look unkempt. But they don't care, they always spin them again.

And ofcourse there are the ants, ladybugs, and plenty of other funny looking insects. Summy will get them into a bowl and observe before reluctantly letting them off to "go find their mommies and daddies and kids".

So much life in a few square feet, and these are only the things we can see.

Extreme Measures

When we lived in Shrewsbury, we measured Summy's increasing height against a wall with pencil markings. We didn't disassemble that piece of wall to bring with us when we moved, though we would have liked to. So now there is no wall to measure against.

But Summy's found her own way - she stands against me or Kiran to see how much taller she's grown.

The other day, I was walking behind her on a path. In front of Summy was another little girl, carrying a skateboard under her arm. Summy quietly walked closer behind the girl, while measuring herself against the girl with her hand on top of her head. After deciding that the girl was probably about "the same tall as me", and hence, the same age, she caught up with her and made small talk.

Not that she would have not talked with an older kid. She loves older kids. And little toddlers. And babies. But especially kids who are the same size as her.

Miss Calculator

Every once in a while, Summy does something that seems amazing to me. What things our kids do aren't amazing, no matter how trivial?

She adds small numbers, but that's not what's amazing. She does it inside her head, no fingers or dots on paper. She does not remember that six and five make eleven. So that's not what I mean when I say she does it in her head.

She closes her eyes and as far as I can understand, she visualizes six things and five more things. And then counts them to get the total. It might sound simple enough, but I've tried it and it's hard for me.

Miss Calculator does miscalculate now and then, but still, it's impressive to me.

Illiterate Parents

This happened a while ago, but I forgot to blog about it until Kiran reminded me. Summy had learned how to write, even though she didn't know how to spell.

She wrote pages and pages of stuff and brought it to us to read. "What did you write, Summy?", I asked, looking at what seemed like gibberish.

"I don't know?" she said. "I can't read it. You're the one who knows to read! What does it say?"

What logic!

Shhhh.... It's a secret

The other day I asked Summy what she did at school, and she replied, "We were making special jewellery boxes for Mommies."

Then, smiling sheepishly, she said, "Oops. I was not supposed to tell you that."

By this time, the Mothers Day secret was out, but I promised her that I would forget she ever told me.

Kiran was in Japan, and while talking to him on the phone night, he asked Summy what she had done that day. This time she was more careful. She whispered into the phone, "I made a jewellery box for Mama." He couldn't hear her at all and kept saying "What?", but I could very well.

Nothing is as precious, even a jewellery box, as a five-year old trying to keep a secret.