Stalling tactics

As Pranav is getting smarter, bedtime keeps slipping farther each day. Once he's in bed, he has a lot to say. For example:

"I don't want to sleep in the bed, Amma."

"Can I sleep on Akka's bed, Amma?"

"Can I play with Akka, Amma?"

"I am thirsty, Amma. Can I drink some water?"

And today, he was almost asleep when he suddenly sat up and said: "I forgot to eat rice, Amma." Of course he has me figured out, and knows what will get me ( and him) out of bed. He had eaten spaghetti for dinner, but what if that hadn't filled him up? But after eating a couple of spoonfuls of rice, he said he was done and he wanted to play.

Even Summy, who used to be the bedtime stalling queen, tries to get him into bed earlier, so that she can sleep peacefully. The stalling queen is growing up, has school, hobbies, responsibilities, and is starting to understand the value of sleep (It's not like she can wake up at eight, and settle down in just a diaper, to watch Dora with a nice warm cup of Horlicks, like some in the house do. She has school to go to, a bus to catch!)

Why does Pranav dislike going to bed so much? Maybe I should ask his mom, who is still up at 2 am, writing and complaining about Pranav not sleeping early enough.

Gabool!

After Pranav's bath this morning, I cuddled the sweet clean bundle wrapped up in a towel, while telling him how cute and huggable he was.

After I put him down, he toddled around saying "Gabool! Gabool!".

"What's Gabool?", I asked him, and he laughed and said, "Gabool!".

"Where is this Gabool?", I said. He giggled and pointed to himself.

Then I realized what he had heard me say: "Huggable" had become "Gabool" :)

He is an Boy!

Pranav, now that he's all of 23 months old, is trying to be grammatically correct.

"Me do it." has disappeared, and has been replaced with "I'll do it."

He makes complex sentences that do not make complete sense, like: "Daddy has an umbrella, but it's raining outchide (outside)."

He hasn't figured out the difference between "what" and "who" yet, though. He points to people and says, "What is that, Amma?", when he feels friendly and curious. (a couple of embarrassing times, I've pretended that he was pointing to and talking about something else: "That? Oh, that's a tree, Pranav.")

He did notice that we say "an" instead of "a" sometimes, as in "an ant". So now he's replaced all "a"s with "an"s.

Tonight, in bed, he waved his finger around in a circle, and said, "Look at this, Amma. What is this?" when I ignored him, he answered himself, "It's an shircle, Amma."

Then he thought for a while, and informed me, "I am an boy, Amma." At that, I had to give him a kiss.

Names

Pranav's been learning our names.

"Nanna's name is Kiran." This one he's got right.

"Amma's name is Amma." He can't imagine that I could have another name.

"Sameera's name is Akka." This one is a little mixed up, but still kind of close.

"Pranav's name is Pranav." This we can't argue with.

Talking

Politest (and longest) sentence ever said:

"Can I have a drink of water in a cup, please, Amma?"

Longest conversation with me (during a long car ride):

"Where is the whale, Amma?" (out of the blue)
"In the ocean."
"Where is the dolphin, Amma?"
"In the ocean."
"Where is the whale, Amma?"
"In the ocean."
"Where is the dolphin, Amma?"
"In the ocean."
"Where is the whale, Amma?"
........... (and on and on, all the way until we got home.)

Most flattering conversation:


"I like Akka's hair, Amma."
"Yes, Pranav."
"Do you like Akka's hair too?"
"Yes, she has nice hair."
"You have nice hair, Amma."
"Thank you, Dinky. You have nice hair too."
"Pretty hair, Amma." (with both hands rubbing my head).

 If he starts a sentence and cannot finish it, he will start over and then start over again, until he gets it right. If I know what he is trying to say and finish it for him, he'll say the whole thing again anyway, indignantly.

Outsmarted

The smarter the kids get, the more scatter-brained I get.

Eight years ago: Summy was learning to sit up, babble, and drool.

Eight years ago: I was an Engineer, working on cutting-edge technology. I was reading, writing, drawing, keeping a home, bringing up a baby, and most importantly: I could speak a sentence without forgetting what I was talking about by the time I got to the middle of it.

Now: Summy is writing poems, drawing, painting, thinking up ideas, singing, dancing, offering me solutions to problems, babysitting, bossing around, swimming, bicycling, roller-skating, reading up a storm, including three Harry Potter books in three weeks.

Now: I am a stay-at-home Engineer with vague memories of cutting edge technology from eight years ago. I stared stupidly when an electronics store salesperson talked to me about micro-SD. When my aunt asked me to save a received call on her mobile phone, I saved it to a wrong name, called a total stranger from her phone (stranger to me, but not to her), hung up on them, deleted her received calls, and then passed on her phone to my 10-year-old nephew to fix. To keep up with the times, I occasionally read a two-week-old newspaper.

One year ago: Pranav was learning to sit up, babble, and drool.

One year ago: I was handling the transition of moving to India, taking care of baby, helping Summy with new school and syllabus, multi-tasking, and most importantly: remembering when I had last taken a shower.

Now: Pranav is talking in sentences in two languages. ("That's my pillow, Amma. Don't touch it.") He is singing the alphabet song, reading letters and making their sounds. He is counting in several languages - though the order doesn't matter, and a few numbers are left out along the way. He is singing words to several songs, and replacing lyrics with his own when he feels like it. ("Twinkle, Twinkle, Panda Bear"). He has taken over my phone. He knows and names many colors, shapes, animals, and things. He is running, and climbing impossible things. He has an amazing memory - hears a word or a song once and recalls it a week later.

Of course he has an amazing memory, because he took my memory too. Because, now: Everyday I ask   Summy, "What date is it?" And sometimes, "What month?" 

Yesterday, it suddenly occurred to me that I could really use a labelmaker (so I wouldn't make Upma with the Idli Ravva again, or Rasam with the Pau Bhaji Masala). I wished I had asked Kiran, who is in the US on a business trip, to get me one. "Oh, well", I thought, "I could still ask, he might still have time to buy one." 

So today, on the phone, I was saying, "And if you see a labelmaker,...", when Kiran interrupted: "I bought a labelmaker already." I was stunned. We'd been married for so long that he knew what I wanted before I did! "But how could you know that I wanted a labelmaker?", I asked. "Because you put it on the shopping list you gave me.", he said, surprised.

Now, any ordinary scatterbrain could forget to put a labelmaker on a list. But it takes an extraordinary scatterbrain to remember to put a labelmaker on a list, then forget about it, then think of it again without ever remembering having thought of it before, then regret not having put it on the list, and and then be surprised when it is discovered to be on the list already.

While the kids are learning more, I'm going the opposite way. So if I ever start to babble on this blog, you'll know Summy and Pranav are getting really smart.

Help (un)Wanted

Pranav frequently helps me out when I ask for it. More often though, he helps after I specifically ask him not to.

This evening, I piled freshly washed laundry on the sofa and began folding. I had to stop in the middle of this task to do something else.

Our resident neatnik, Pranav, found this unsightly (in his opinion) mess. He climbed onto the sofa, pulled the unfolded clothes off and stuffed them back into the laundry basket. This wasn't enough. He climbed onto the sofa again, took the folded clothes off and piled them up in the laundry basket.

All this time, I was pleading with him to leave the laundry alone, and he was ignoring me. When he was done, he looked proud of himself. Nobody said the usual "Good Job!" to him. So he said it to himself: "Good Job!", he said, with a smile of satisfaction, and walked away.

A Poem About Me

By Summy:

My Mother

My mother is special

The way you find

is she is very kind.

She makes good

yummy, delicious food.

She calls me sweet

and very neat.

My mom can sing

like a bird can tweet.

I love her all the time

But sometimes she is a lime.

My mother makes the best nest to give

to let me live.

She is the best mother

anyone could have.

I'm helpful when I wash dishes

and she loves to watch fishes.

Bottoms Up

We were lying down comfortably on the sofa, little Dinky and me. He was on my tummy, face down. I asked him, it being a warm, lazy, afternoon, "Would you like to eat some watermelon, Pranavi?".

Normally, he would nod. But with his head resting nicely, I guess he felt too lazy to pick it up and nod it. So he sticks up his little bottom in the air, and wiggles it up and down, twice, to say "Yes".

I bet this one is not in the baby sign language books.

Guys and Girls

This one's for Summy. I couldn't resist posting this, though I'm not supposed to write about her.

She was learning genders for animals in Hindi. "Haathi, Haathini, Sher, Sherni, Bile, Gaay". She stopped and stared at the words "Bile" (bull) and "Gaay" (cow). And then she said:

"Daddy, if a cow is a girl, why do they call it a "guy"?"

DinkyMan

I call him that, because he talks like he's in a Marvel comic book, with sound effects.

He hits head on something, and says, "Bonk!".

He sees somebody sleeping, he says, "Khrrrrrr. Khrrrrrr" (that's his sound for snoring).

He rings the doorbell and says, "Ding Dong!" musically.

He bounces a ball and says, "Boiiinnng! Boiiiinnng! Boiiinnng!".

Walking, talking, entertainment.

Pranav Ball

Pranav is a very polite and friendly baby in the apartment play area (though not always so polite and friendly to his sister). He doesn't just stare at other babies or play alongside them, but wants to play WITH them.

The other day, he brought his baby soccer ball to the park. There was another toddler, same size, looking at the ball, and I suggested to Pranav that he could play ball with that boy. (What was I thinking?)

So, Pranav walked over with a smile and handed the ball to the other boy. The other boy's face lit up, and he hugged this new ball.

"Tho! Tho!", said Pranav, trying to tell his friend to throw the ball to him. The other baby just stared back. As far as he was concerned, the ball was handed over to him, and was now his. (Fair enough.)

"Peez! Peez!", said Pranav, now starting to want his ball back. (Peez = Please) The other baby didn't understand, and hugged the ball closer. So Pranav went close and tried to grab the ball back.

That was when the other kid started to wail. He ran to his grandpa for support.

Now, this was a shock for Pranav. He looked stunned, then his lower lip jutted out, cutely and comically. Then he started to cry, ran to me, and hugged me tight. He would not let go of me for the next five minutes.

During those five minutes, the grandpa of the other baby talked to him and cajoled him into returning the ball.

This incident seemed to stick in his mind because that night, in his sleep, he kept whimpering and saying "Pranav ball! Pranav ball!".

I was afraid that he would never ever share anything again, but he still fetches other kids' stray balls for them, like a puppy. I think he'll be fine.

Party Time

Pranav has just learned the Happy Birthday song. He goes:

"Appy Birday to yoo. Appy Appy Birday to yoo. Appy Appy Appy Birday to yoo."

So when he got his first birthday party invitation today, from his sister's friends, Summy and I were excited for him. He looked over the invitation card with great interest, exclaiming about the balloons, stars, and the picture of Mickey Mouse on it.

Sameera and I made a big deal of it, saying, "Pranav gets to go to a birthday party! Pranav gets to go to a birthday party!".

Pranav watched us. Eventually, he got excited too. He got off the sofa, where he was sitting, and went "Birday Party! Birday Party!".

Then he turned around, said, "Pranav go Birday Party", and started running away.

"Not right now.", we tried to tell, but there was no stopping him.

He ran straight into the bathroom and pointed to his potty seat. That's when we realized that he was actually saying, "Pranav go Birday Potty!"

He's in for a surprise when he gets to the party on Sunday, dressed in his best diaper, and there is not a potty in sight.

Edited to add: I just remembered that Pranav's baby potty seat has pictures of baby birds on it. He calls they "baby boodies". When we said "Birthday Party", it sounded to him like "Birdie Potty". Of course! It's all clear now, later. Much much later. The smarter the children get, the slower I get.

How about this.

We were going to sleep at night, and that's the time we say "Good Night" to everything that we can think of. Toes, knees, eyes, ears, shirt, diaper, lights, fan, Akka, even to the bathroom, and the water and the shampoo in there.

This night, Pranav was haggling with me to watch his favorite videos on Youtube instead of sleeping. (What's the world coming to when a not-yet-18-month-old has favorite videos on Youtube?)

"Watch ABC balloons?", he said, hopefully, starting to slide down the bed.

"ABC balloons, Good Night.", I said.

"How 'bout, Kangaroo?"

"Kangaroo, Good Night."

"How 'bout, Gummy bear?"

"Gummy bear, Good Night."

By this time he was settled back into bed with a mischievous grin.

"How 'bout, Dora?"

"Dora, Good Night."

"How 'bout..... , How 'bout......."

I waited because I could see his brain working at it.

"How 'bout, Ducky?"

And so it went on until he started to yawn, and finally, fell asleep.

P.S: I realize that Youtube is not a safe place for a kid to be. I only allow Pranav on there, because I get to choose what he sees. Summy, being older, is not allowed on there unless I am there too. I have personally seen Summy's friends stumble upon inappropriate videos while surfing around with little supervision. So please do be careful if you are not already.

Being Careful

Pranav was standing on a stepstool, next to a low table on which the laptop sits. He was watching "The Gummy Bear Song" on youtube.

It seemed so cute, the baby using a stepstool to get up to the computer, so I got the camera and started to record him. I got closer, and said, "Dance, Pranav!".

He looked at me, danced a couple of steps to the music, and then stopped.

Again, I said, "Dance, Pranav!".

He looked at me again, seriously, and said, "Fall down.".

Which I roughly translate as follows: "Dear Amma, you might be too busy to notice, but I am perched precariously on a narrow stepstool. If I dance around on this, I will fall off."

At least one of us uses their head.

Sowwy

Pranav is a pretty tough little guy. He falls down in the park a lot, then dusts off his hands and pants and goes running again.

But there are times when he likes to be made a fuss of. At bedtime, he said, "Boo boo" and pointed to his toes. "Kiss?" I said.

"Kiss.", he said. Then after I kissed his toes, he gave me his other foot. "Kiss."

Then he said, "More kiss. More kiss.", and kept passing me one foot after the other to kiss.

Finally, he looked at his toes and apologized to them, "Sowwy."

When Cows Fly

Today while driving in the car, Pranav pointed out of the window.

"Look! Cows!", he said.

"Cows?", I said, looking all around and not seeing any cows. "You see cows? I guess we've gone past them. Bye, cows."

"Bye, cows.", he said.

Then in the evening, in the park, he said:

"Look! Cows!".

I looked around. Again, no cows.

Then I saw him looking and pointing up at the sky. Sure enough, there were the black "cows", flying in the sky. Technically, they weren't really even crows, they were eagles.

But Pranav had fun running around while looking up (and meanwhile, tripping over things), saying, "Catch it! Catch it!" and laughing.

Midnight Sun

Last night, I put Pranav to sleep. I turned on the light in the attached bathroom, so that I could see him easily from outside the bedroom.

Soon, I heard his voice calling "Amma". His eyes were closed when I went to him, so I lay down next to him. "Sunny", he said. He talks in his sleep all the time, so I said, "Yeah? Is it sunny?". He kept saying "Sunny", "Sunny", "Sunny", until I finally realized that he was telling me the bathroom light was too bright for him.

Funny bunny.

Brogging

Pranav is one month short of being a year and a half old. He is little in size, but big on talking.

We went to Kung Fu Panda 2 last week, and he not only stayed awake to watch the movie, but made many comments on it (If people who were sitting close to us in the theatre are reading this, I'm sorry. Yes, that was my kid, but atleast he was not crying through most of the movie like that other baby. Ha!)

At one time in the movie, when everyone laughed - he didn't get the joke but said, "Funny! Ha ha ha.". Not funnier than him.

The other day, somebody in the lift asked him, "What's your name?", and I was going to answer for him as usual. But this tiny guy in his little shorts, looked up at and said, "Pannav".

He notices things without appearing to. He loves to rinse the lentils ("pappu") before I cook them, and I let him do it most of the time. But this one time, I was in a hurry, and calculatedly put on a Dora DVD for him, so that he would not notice me rinsing the pappu. I put veggies in the pan, I chopped stuff for the pappu, I put on the rice. He was watching Dora intensely all the time. The moment I touched the pappu cooker, amazingly, I felt a soft creature hugging my legs, pawing me, and saying "Pappu! Pappu! Wash it!"

I look at him and think he's going about his business, but he's soaking up everything that's going on around him. Yesterday at the park, he was rocking on a little rocking duck. Some girls stood around talking, next to us. Pranav pointed to one of them and said, "Akka".

"That's not Akka", I said distractedly. "Akka is on her bicycle."

Then he pointed to her again, and said, "Simran Akka.". We had never met this girl before, and he had never heard that name before. Surprised, I turned to the girls and caught one of them calling the other "Simran". He must have been hearing them talk.

He is also a neat freak. I empty his box of books on the floor sometimes, so he can get to them easily. When I go back to check, I always find them neatly stacked back into the box. This kind of thing used to surprise me, but now I know that's what he does.

Once I dumped a jar of clothespins on the floor, and gave him some plastic cups from my kitchen drawer. I thought maybe he'd like to sort the clothespins into the cups by color. He wasn't interested in sorting them, but methodically put the clothespins back into the jar, and put the lid on it. Then, he stacked up the cups I gave him, and put the cups and the jar neatly away in the drawer!

When I put him to bed at night, and hug and kiss him and say, "Pranav, good night!", he pats himself on his chest and says, "Pumpkin pie, good night.", before I can say it.

When we lie down in bed at night, he goes through the happenings of the day in shorthand. "Akka school bus. Renuka is calling. Rain. Cheesy pasta." and so on. He dreams a lot, because he always wakes up saying something out of the blue. He talks in his sleep too, very clearly.

Babies are amazing. Pranav learned all this in less than a year and a half. Next year, I think he'll be running this blog. I'm only half kidding.

P.S.: "Brogging" is when you blog and brag about something at the same time. I just made that up.

Anyway, I might seem to be "brogging" in this post, and in others, but I can't help it. I'm a mom writing about my kids, and I mostly write only the best things about them and me - ofcourse I'm not writing about the times when they are total brats and I'm an absolute monster. I'm saving that for my tell-all book.

Dear Dinky

I'll regret not noting down all the funny and amazing things that you have done in the past few months. You are now sixteen months old.

You have started to speak, though we don't always understand. I used to count the words in your vocabulary, but she stopped counting a couple of months ago, after you started to be a parrot and learn a new word or two every hour.

I had never noticed until you started talking, but you seem to be a very smart baby. You have figured out how to get our attention and to get your way, and slow Amma is just starting to catch on.

You love Akka and are happy to see her, play, sing duets, and dance with her, but you're also starting to fight. Today I saw you grab a toy from her hands before yelling "Please?". She also takes interesting things right out of your hands , so I suppose you're even.

I'll try to keep up better writing down the things that you do.

Dreams

Pranav loves to learn and use words. He seemed to be progressing normally until he was one. Then in a couple of months, he seemed to have skipped a year and acts more like a two year old in many ways.

I used to proudly count the number of words he said, but stopped counting after it crossed a hundred, and he seemed to be learning a few new words each day. Because he says so much, I know what he wants, and what he is thinking, much of the time, much more than I did when Summy was a baby. The most amazing thing to me, though, is how he dreams.

I read that babies start dreaming at a year of age. He cries in his sleep sometimes, and I guessed he was dreaming too. But one day, he started to talk clearly in his sleep, and suddenly we not only knew that our one year old was dreaming, but also what he was dreaming about!

For example, one night he cried, "Akka! Tone!". He must have been dreaming that Summy, his Akka, took away his favorite toy, my iPhone. Sometimes he giggles out her name, sometimes he cries, but "Akka" is a recurring theme in his dreams.

Parrot

"Pranav, do you want to read a book?"

"Booksh?"

"Get a book from your book box."

"Book boksh?"

"See this? This is an apple."

"Appul?"

"This is a banana..."

"Baana?"

"And this is a pineapple."

"Ompompom?"

(Suppressed laughter from me.)

When I talk to other people, he listens and repeats words from our conversations.

This is when babies start loving the word "No". And Pranav has several ways to say it.

He says "Done?" whenever I offer him food, even before he's tasted it. He waves his hand to show me he's had enough. He shakes his head "No" vigorously.

He says "No-no" while waving one finger, in a preachy little voice, just before doing something that he knows is naughty.

Little Sponge

I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them, Pranav has learned something new.

Like today: he opened his mouth, and said "teesh", pointing at his teeth. Where did he learn this? I have no idea, and I'm with him all the time.

By the way, to the June bug moms who may still be reading this, I finally got to meet D today! Thanks for stopping by, D, it was such a pleasure.

Little Sportsman

Some older kids were playing with a cricket ball in the play area. Pranav was stomping around excitedly, going "Ba! Ba!". When the ball came his way and a boy came after it, Pranav stretched out a hand, like he was one of the boys, and said, "Catch".

The boy gave the ball to Pranav. I told him to throw the ball back to the boy, and he did! I carried him away (proudly clapping for himself), so the boys could play in peace.

Pranav is obsessed with "ba", as many babies are. If I feed him rice or cheese, it has to be rolled into a "ba" first (he rubs his hands together to show me how I should roll a ball). The setting sun is a "ba". He flips through books and magazines, looking for any round object ( even a plate), that he can call a "ba".

He is gaga about ba ba.

Mountain Climber

Last week, I was relaxed because Pranav seemed suddenly independent. He was walking by himself, playing by himself, entertaining himself. Today, his indepence is scaling new heights, and he has me on my toes again. He is climbing.

Yesterday, he stared helplessly at things that were high above him, beyond his reach. Today, he suddenly has a new perspective. He doesn't see a stepstool, chair, and a table. What he sees is the possibilities, steps reaching up to a so-far-unexplored treasure site.

Now that he knows what he can do, he loathes being taken away from a forbidden thing or activity. He screams and throws a tantrum. I thought this happened when they turn two!

He is speaking volumes with only three or four sounds. "ma", "na", sha", "ka", and so on. Some words are so subtly different: "shish" for "goldfish", "schiss" for "cheese", "shiss" for "shoes", and "sish" for "sit". Only a perceptive mom can tell the difference. Ofcourse, I'm not that mom. I only guess at what he means by the general direction that he's pointing at.

If I'm out of his sight for only a minute (no exaggerating), he sets up a one-man search party and goes around looking for me, calling "Amma! Amma!" about every two seconds.

He also thinks of his dad and his akka when they are not around, and goes around calling "Nanna!" or "Ka!"

He is a great dancer. Music of any kind makes him shake his little bottom and twirl around (the twirling comes from his sister). He loves to hold my phone and dance to the music from it.

He has tried all the play equipment in the little apartment complex playground. He loves the slide best. He sits on the flat bottom part of the slide, and looks around the park. That's his hangout. When he's tired, he loves to swing in my lap, and fall asleep while looking up at the trees and birds. He has made many friends of his own size.

I know I say this on almost every post, but our little boy is really growing up.

Uh Aah...

When Pranav drops something, I say "Uh oh.". He has been imitating me, but says "Uh aah". Sometimes he says it after dropping something. Sometimes he says it before, which is a useful thing, because I can rush to catch whatever it is that he's dropping.

To him, all it means is " on the floor". I discovered that only today. I was holding him, and he pointed to himself and then the floor, and said, "Uh aah.". He was asking me to set him down!

Mama? Pop pop.

He was sleeping on the bed, and started to wake. So I ran to him.

He was sleeping on his stomach with his cheek resting on the sheet. He half opened his eyes, and looking at me, said "Mama?" sleepily.

"Yes, Nani?", I said.

"Mama?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

"Pop pop."

"Pop pop?"

"Pop pop."

"Pop pop?" I said, with a laugh.

"Pop pop pop pop." with a smile and still half closed eyes.

Then he closed his eyes and contentedly went back to sleep.

I have no idea what we were talking about, but I am pretty sure we had a conversation.

Why Worry?

The Dalai Lama was here, in Bangalore, on Sunday. I didn't even know. I was doing mundane shopping (diapers, of all things), while I could have been hearing him speak.

I love him, for his honesty more than anything else, for not pretending to be something that he is not.

Oh well, maybe I'll see him some other time. As he said on Sunday (paraphrased): if you can do something about it, why worry? And if you can't, why worry?

Toddling and Waddling

Pranavi turned one year old. He is waddling around with his legs apart and his arms up, bent at the elbows. He is walking in the house, walking in the park, walking in the mall, walking everywhere, and he is thrilled about it.

About every five minutes, he brings us his little sandals. If we accept them, he sits on his bottom and stretches his legs. While we put his shoes on his feet, he helpfully spreads his toes so that there is always a toe or two sticking out of his sandal holes.

Once his shoes are on, he gets one of our shoes. He points at our feet and the shoes, trying to get his thick-headed parents to understand what he wants. When they say, "No! Don't touch shoes! Shoes dirty!", he goes to the front door and points to it, hoping we'll take the hint. When we ignore this, he'll bang on the door, cling to our legs (he's an excellent clinger), and so on, but his clueless parents only take him for outings twice or thrice a day.

If he had his way, we would be outside the whole day. The few times that we step out of our apartment and wait for the lift, he gets so happy that he runs around in circles, laughing, in the hallway.

He loves to dance. Especially with his sister. He gets along grandly with her, as she does with him. They giggle and play games together. She holds him and twirls and bounces to music. She even brushes his four teeth, and he sits uncommonly still as she does this.

He understands what we say, but like his older sister, hears selectively. He says many words, including "amma", "nanna", and "akka" for his mom, dad, and sister. He says "ba" for ball, and " brrmma" for balloon.

He is growing up fast, as one year olds tend to do.

Sweet and Funny

Today, at a restaurant lunch with family, I gave Pranav some ice cream. He was so happy, I've never seen anybody be so happy about what they're eating before. At every spoonful, he would look at everybody around the table and laugh out loud. Soon, everybody was laughing so much it hurt.

Aahhh, sweet memories.

Budding Vegan

A year before Summy was born, I read about being vegan for the first time. A vegan is a very strict vegetarian. Not only does a vegan not eat meat, but s/he also avoids eggs, dairy products, honey, etc. A vegan tries to be non-cruel in every way possible - no leather, no fur, no silk, and so on. S/he is, in general, an annoying, righteous, guilt-inducing, pain in the neck.

After that, I stayed away from milk, cheese, pizza, eggs for a few months. I stopped buying leather shoes and purses, and silk clothes. Slowly, I returned to eating pizza and eggs again, because I craved these things.

Summy has always been a careful and suspicious vegetarian. But slowly, she is growing past me. Last year, we had a discussion about eggs and how egg-laying hens are treated, and then she decided to stay away from them. So of course, I have to stay away from them too.

Now she has taken this further, and refuses to eat things like cakes that have egg in them. The green dot that is on snack packages in India helps her decide what's okay and what's not. Whereas, I have never considered egg in cakes and waffles and things, to be actually egg, somehow. Now I have to stay away from those too, now.

And then, she started to think about leather. I always bought her non-leather shoes, but this year we got her uniform shoes from the school, and apparently they are leather. She was upset about this. I've been looking for a purse, and it's hard to find one that's not leather in India.

It goes like this: I ask the store clerk: "Is this a leather bag?" And they say proudly, "Yes, 100% leather." "Well, " I say, "I want a bag that's not leather. Do you have any?". And they give me a strange look, randomly pick a bag, and say, "This one is synthetic." Riiiiiight, sure it is. There are no tags that say "leather" or "man-made material", like there are back in the US. So I'm tempted to just pick any bag, but I have these two huge watchful and disapproving eyes looking at me (in my mind, even if Summy is not actually present).

The other day, she came back from school with a horrified expression on her face, and said, "I know how silk is made. I don't ever want to see silk again." Science class taught her how the cocoons, with the silk worms in them, are put into hot water. So I can't buy silk, but thank goodness that one's easy. I've never been fond of it.

I wonder if all this is something that she will grow out of, or something that will stick. But I'm hoping for the latter. I would proudly put up with an annoying, righteous, guilt-inducing pain in the neck.

First Steps

Walked on Dec 4th. At ten and a half months old, now considers himself a big boy. Refuses to sit in bathtub, insists on feeding himself, considers napping unnecessary.

He took his funny, wobbly first steps on a pizza night for Summy's friends at our place. Maybe seeing all the kids running around made him want to do it too. Being able to walk has gone to his head.

I put him in his ducky inflatable bathtub as usual, and he stands up and climbs out of it in an instant.

He grabs the bowl and spoon when I feed him, and throws a tantrum and refuses to eat when I don't hand over. Tries to feed himself with the spoon, but not before rubbing the meal all over himself. I have to quickly buy a high chair.

I feed him, rock him, lie down with him, pat him on his back, rub his tummy, but unless he is completely exhausted, he refuses to sleep.

I'm starting to remember what it's like to have a stubborn toddler in the house :)

Self Soothing

I was rocking Pranav on my lap. He was half asleep and his eyes, half closed. As I rocked, he started to chant "aaa aaa aaa aaa" in a sleepy voice, something he does when rocked. He also started to pat himself rhythmically on his chest. I've never patted him to sleep, so I don't know where he got that, but it sure is funny to see a baby pat himself to sleep that way!

A Baby Spa And Fitness Day

You will be woken up by the softest hands in the world, even though they might be slapping you in your face. This will be followed by wet drooly kisses on your nose, accompanied by the sound of happy gurgling, and the aromatherapy of baby breath.

A vigorous massage will follow, as little elbows and knees dig into your stomach and a wiggly baby tries to climb over you and escape from the bed. Your morning Yoga is done by reflex, before you are even fully awake, as you try to stretch and bend yourself so baby can't escape.

All stress (possibly caused by being woken up mid-sleep) will melt away at the soothing sight of two tiny teeth in a mouth wide open in a grin, and the delight in two twinkling eyes. Nobody's ever been this happy to see you open your eyes!

A lesson in multi-tasking follows, as you hold the baby and go through your routine. Remain alert and watch out for those little grabby hands reaching for forbidden things. No video game has ever been more challenging!

Your physical fitness will be put to the test. Can you get from the kitchen sink to the living room sofa, before baby goes from standing up to tumbling down? Can you do the hundreds of squats while holding baby, as he drops things so that he can watch you pick them up again and again?

Think you are dextrous enough to pick up a baby who doesn't want to be picked up? If you think you are, meet the "Slider". He lifts up his arms, bends back, and slides right out of your arms before you know what happened. You might possibly figure out how to hold onto him, by wrapping your arms around him, and holding his left hand and right foot, so that he cannot untangle himself and get away (If you do decide to try this extreme sport, be sure to wear ear plugs, because you will not want to hear that screaming in close range).

Maybe you thought it was difficult to be a contortionist. But stand up, with a baby standing up and hugging your legs tightly from behind, asking to be picked up. And you'll discover that you'll do all sorts of contortions to pick up that baby and hug him - see, all you needed was motivation.

Your hair and skin will be pampered as never before. Besides the banana-oatmeal facepacks, and the rice-cereal/yogurt skin tightening masques, you will experience many non-traditional spa treatments, such as rice/dal, squirted tomato juice, chewed up pasta, etc. The treatments change daily (depending on what's for dinner), and are always guaranteed to be slathered on by those soft little hands.

Besides baby breath, aromatherapy includes freshly shampooed baby head, freshly powdered baby neck, and so on.

By the time you go to bed at night, next to the warm baby, you will find yourself pleasantly tired and ready to fall asl... ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Mom Brain

It was a hectic morning a month ago. Kiran and I were getting Summy ready for school. I hold the baby while Kiran helps Summy get ready. Kiran holds Pranav while I get her breakfast ready.

On this day, Summy got a spill on her school uniform shirt. Kiran was washing her shirt at the kitchen sink. Getting worried about the time, I suddenly realized that Kiran was not holding Pranav. I was instantly irritated with him for having left Pranav alone on the floor. I looked around and didn't see Pranav on the floor, or in his exersaucer. I looked at Summy, and no, she didn't have him either.

Where was he? I imagined him being left alone on the bed, to fall off the edge. Maybe he went under the sofa? (he did that once before). Panicking, I yelled. "Where is Pranav? Who's watching him?"

Summy smiled and said, "Mommy, you are holding Pranav." Sure enough, there he was on my hip, his face close to mine, peering into my face with an amused expression.

Don't tell me something like this never happened to you!

On the Job 24x7

I work on the laptop in the middle of the night, sitting at the foot of the bed. Pranav sleeps on the bed.

I feel a movement and look up at the baby. His eyes seem closed, but I know better from experience. In the dark,the line where his eyelids meet his lower eyelashes is a thick black line. This means that his eyes are open to the tiniest little slit and he is looking at me through it. I wait for a few seconds, and sure enough, he kicks his leg up in irritation. I know what he is thinking: Why wasn't I at his side yet?

Then he turns his eyes a little and notices the laptop. Right away, he rolls over onto his tummy and sits up. He turns around, his eyes still only slits, and starts crawling to the laptop. Even in sleep, he thinks it's his duty to explore this usually out-of-reach device and maybe chew on it some.

I hurriedly shut the laptop, jump to his side and put him back on his back to sleep. He never forgets his job as a baby.

Making Memories Last

I started this blog when Summy was a year old. That was when she was big enough for me to have a little time to myself, and also old enough to provide me with lots of material to write about. I spent last night reading my old entries and laughing - it seems the funniest age was when she was two to three years old.

Not that Pranav is not funny now at eight months old. But there are no darnedest things that he says - and it's when they just start talking that kids are at their funniest.

An eight month old is just extreme sweetness. I enjoy my time at home and spend the whole day with Pranav (I didn't get to do that with Summy), and I laugh a lot, but I can't really explain why I do. There are his comical and goofy expressions, his sucking on my chin, and more things I can't remember. I wish I could save all this, because I only now remember baby Summy being this sweet - all this time I'd forgotten about what she was like as a baby. I'm afraid I might forget with Pranav too. So I make entries that might seem banal, just because I don't want to forget the little details.

Sense of Humor

I remember Summy had an early sense of humor. Maybe all babies do. Anyway, Pranav has one too. He laughs such big laughs for such a little person. Especially when big sister is around.

She panted like a puppy while holding a piece of cloth in her mouth one day recently. He thought it was so hilarious, he would burst out laughing at just the sight of her, that whole day. She enjoys being his clown, and he enjoys her antics.

Also, sometimes he laughs just because I laugh. It escalates quickly, because it makes me laugh more to see him laugh with me, and that makes him laugh even more, and so on, until we are both in fits. I do not remember that eight month olds are this social, though I remember having the same kind of experience with Summy when she was older.

Sweet package

It took this long to settle in to our new home. Four months- they go by so fast for me, and Pranav learns to do more in these four months than I have learned in four years. And then some more.

I love all that he is doing. But what I love most is how he loves me. Summy is seven, and I know that it's only for a short while that a baby is so attached to a mother, that they are practically one person, not two.

Someone is holding him, and he's quite happy. But then he sees me, and starts to bounce. There is happiness on his face, so happy to see me. But there is also anxiety that he might not be handed over to me, or that I might walk away without taking him. He let's out a sound that's half laughter and half cry. Kiran is the one other person that he is comfortable being with indefinitely ( until he gets hungry).

I know it will not last long. But for now we are one, though he's not physically attached to me. I take him where I go. I enjoy his smiles, his chewing on my chin, his snuggling smilingly but shyly into my shoulder when a stranger talks to him.

How sweet it is.

Little Chinuku.

Pranav is growing into a cutie-pie, as all babies do. He is now six months old. To say that he is active would be the understatement of the year. I have bulging biceps from carrying him around while he tries to jump out and escape. He is busy practising his jumping, rolling, sitting, crawling skills.

I am finding that a lot of things they say about having babies are true.

They say, that after baby, your hair falls out a lot. It is true, but not in the way I thought. Pranav holds on to my hair for support, tugs on it when he wants me to go in a different direction (steering mechanism, as in the movie Ratatouille), and pulls it out by the handful when he wants to send me a subtle message that he's hungry (while slobbering on my face at the same time).

Also, they say (duh!) that having a baby hurts. Again in more than one way. Just today, I've been stepped on, my stomach has been jumped on, my head has been butted, my lip has been cut (from his head bonking it), my mouth has been pulled (from curiosity while he watched me eat). Ouch!

But how sweet it all is! One dimply chubby smile and all boo-boos are forgotten. Summy has named him a sapota ( chikoo), because he's nice and soft and juicy and sweet like one, and his eyes are black like chikoo seeds.

He is always looking for people's attention. He gets tired of me after a while, and his face lights up when I take him on a walk so he can meet new people. He smiles at them and makes baby noises, so he's impossible to ignore.

Even when we drive around in the car, whenever there is a stop in traffic, he will smile and laugh at people through the windows, and he almost always gets smiled back at. One day in the car, I saw him beaming and bouncing, and looked out to see what he was seeing. It was an auto rickshaw full of schoolchildren, all smiling and making faces at him.

Summy is enjoying him very much too. He takes a lot of attention away from her, especially from people outside. This is a little worrisome, but she is at an age when she is getting to be more quiet and private. So sometimes, this suits her.

Actually, I have talked to her about this blog and asked her what she thought. She would rather I not write about her. I asked what I should write about, then, and she said, "Pranav, ofcourse!". She wants to appear only in her role as a big sister.

Link To My Other Blog

http://thirtythreeandignorant.blogspot.com

The Girl Who Said No to Everything

One day, a mother found a lost baby girl in the middle of a forest. She said, "Oh My! How did you get here?", and took her home. As the baby girl grew up, she was as bautiful as a princess, but also very naughty. When her mom asked her to do something, she'd always say, "No!" or "Nothing!".

When the girl's mother said, "Would you like to go shopping?" or "Will you help me clean up?", her answer was always "No!". When her mother asked, "Would you like to paint or read?", her answer was "Nothing!". Her favorite words were "No" and "Nothing".

The girl's mother tried to teach her how to say "Yes", but it did not work. One day, her mother's friend came to visit. The guest asked the girl, "What is your name?". The girl said, "Nothing!". The mother asked the girl to get some water for the guest. Of course, the girl said "No!". That made her mother very mad.

As a punishment, her mother asked her to take care of the garden for a day. She said, "If you say No, I will send you to the forest to pick blueberries." The girl said, "No! I'll stay at home or take a nap under a tree!". So the next day, her mother gave her a basket and sent her to the forest to pick berries.

In the forest, the little girl lost her way. Then she met a huge bear. The bear said, "Child, are you lost?" The girl was definitely lost, but she did not know how to say yes. So she said "No!". The bear said, "Go back home then." The girl really wanted to go back home, but she said, "No!". The bear was surprised. It asked, "But don't you want to go to your mother?" The girl was scared, but she still said, "No!".

So the bear decided to take the little girl to its den to keep as a pet. The bear picked up the girl and started to carry her to its den. Then the little girl started to yell. Her mother heard her, and quickly ran into the forest. She found the bear and the girl. When the bear saw the angry mother, it was afraid. It dropped the little girl and ran away.

The mother hugged the girl and said, "Do you want to go back home now?". The girl said, "Yes! Yes! Yes!". She had finally learned to say Yes! They went back home. The girl's favorite words became "Yes" and "Everything", and she and her mother lived happily ever after.

The End.

As written and told by Sameera V. II Standard (and only slightly edited by her mom to make the mother in the story a little less angry and scary)

Where to begin?

So much has happened in the past two months, that it feels ridiculous
to write about any one thing that happened today.

We decided, quite suddenly, to move from California to Bangalore.
Summy is going to school here in Bangalore.

And that's it! It's like meeting a long lost childhood friend.

Sent from my iPhone

Birds Of A Feather

Every night I sit next to Summy on her bed, until she is almost asleep.

Most of the time, I hold Pranav in my lap and rock him to sleep at the same time. Summy kisses his little feet, or ruffles the hair on his little head, depending on which direction he's pointed at. Then they both fall sweetly asleep (most of the time. Other times they are both total sourheads).

It is surreal to watch them both sleeping, because when his eyes are closed, he looks exactly like Summy did when she was a baby. It's like watching the grown version of her sleep on the bed, while holding the baby version of her at the same time.

But once he opens his eyes, he looks very different. He's only a baby, but he has boy hair, and a boy face. I tried putting Summy's baby clothes and hair accessories on him, but he still looks like a boy.

Rolling Over

I'm reduced to noting down milestones here. But it's still exciting to me!

He rolled over - plop! on the bed. He doesn't know how to get his arm out from under him yet, but the goofy proud smile on his face after he flips over is priceless.

I'd forgotten how sweet babies are.

Laughing Matter

Days are passing by, and I keep writing updates in my head. They don't always make it here. Okay, they rarely make it here. I'm going to write up a jumble of whatever I remember, whenever I can, before I forget.

Note to myself so I can put it in a baby journal later: Pranav laughed with me for the first time today. He loves the little sproing of hair on the top of my head, that droops down while I change his diaper. His face lights up with a smile, and his eyes look at the top of my head in anticipation of this. Then I dangle the hair in front of my face while I blow air at it to make it wave around, and I might as well be a three-ring circus, the way he is entertained by me. Each wide smile asks for an encore.

Well, today he laughed out loud at me while I was doing my silly hair routine. Then the look in his face was so priceless, as he waited for more, that I laughed. He laughed with me again, and this time he was looking into my face. That made me laugh more, and that made him laugh even more, and so on.

Happy days!

Sibling Love

Got to be quick!

I put Pranav into a Moby wrap tied around myself this morning, and walked Summy to school. He loves to sleep in the wrap, all cosy and warm, cuddled up against me.

So when I came back home, I did not take him out of it. I used the quiet time to toast myself a bagel and eat it in front of the computer, all the while with him sleeping on me. Then I brushed off bagel crumbs from his little head and decided to post something quick.

Got to be quick, before he wakes up again! So if I end a post abruptly, that is why. Life is little cycles of feeding Pranav, burping him, changing his diaper, rocking him to sleep for half an hour, and then getting about half an hour off while he sleeps. It's not hectic, it's just full. I get to watch a lot of TV, and all exercise is in the form of rocking. I even rock when I'm not holding him.

I am getting to know the little guy, just as I got to know Sameera. And now he stirs. So I go.

Pranav

The little pumpkin arrived a month ago.

Summy's pampered baby brother, he loves Summy back. He recognizes the sound of her voice, the sight of her face, instantly. And beams at her, no matter what his mood is.

The first thing she does in the morning is to look at his face. The first thing after coming home from school too. When I am reading with her, putting her to bed, doing things with her, and we hear baby crying, she tells me, "Go, go take care of him." She checks on him at every little whimper (and in the process, wakes up a sleeping baby, but that's okay).

It is such a pleasure to watch them.

Sent from my iPhone

Impending Arrival

On a recent visit to the hospital, I found this sign posted in the elevator.

"If you are displaying the symptoms of feeling dizzy, nauseous, have a headache, or a fever, please do not visit the hospital. And do not even think about it if you are under 18."

That's not exactly what it said, but it was close. I was lucky to be feeling well enough to visit the hospital. So if I had a fever or a headache and was there to see a doctor, would I have seen the sign in the elevator and turned and walked right out of the hospital? Or would I have whistled nonchalantly until I got to the doctor's office before I started sneezing? Where should I go if I really were sick? To the mall or the movies?

And Summy isn't even allowed to step into those doors. Thanks to H1N1, suddenly children are treated like litte germ-carriers. Which they are. But I'm still disappointed that Summy won't be there to see her baby brother right after he arrives.

She is the one who's waiting to see him, more than anyone else. She never passes by me, even when in a hurry, without a kiss and a hug for my tummy.

Two more weeks to go.

The Incredible Hulk

Today I was reading a headline on the computer about what kinds of people are the angriest. The first thing I thought was "People who have kids?"

It's ironic. They're the joys of your lives.

Mine definitely is the joy of mine. I was infinitely patient with her when she was a baby and a toddler. But as she grows up, I am much less so.

She is little, but has big feelings. She is defiant, and does not like to stand down from a confrontation. She is also a sweet, affectionate angel. But that is hard to remember sometimes when this pint-sized stubborn package stands up and defies my orders, and even does the opposite of what I ask sometimes.

It is futile to have a power struggle with this one, and infuriating.

I clicked on the headline about which kind of people are the maddest. Sure enough, the second on the list in the article is people who have children at home. I don't usually believe anything I read, but I believe this one :).

It's not the kind of constant anger that eats you up, but the kind of sudden explosion that comes when you find a child who is supposed to be cleaning up her room, dumping more toys on the floor instead.

I am happier than ever, but I have also done more yelling about trivial things in the past three years than the rest of my life. I know I'll regret it. I regret it already. I know better and I keep trying to be better.

But meanwhile, when I find my veins popping, my color turning green, and in general starting to look and sound like the incredible Hulk, at least I know that I am not the only parent who is doing it. Am I?

What do I know?

I am writing a story for Summy (don't ask, it's a long story). As I finish a chapter, I read it to her.

So I was reading the first chapter, and I came to this line I wrote. A little girl is thinking it: "Mother knows a lot of things, but most of the time she does not know what I am talking about. A lot of grown-ups are like that." I was surprised by how vigorously she nodded and agreed.

I had just written down what I remember thinking when I was a kid. I did not realize that Summy thought it too. History apparently does repeat itself.

Milestone: Riding a Bike

It's been, what, months, a year? But here is a milestone too important not to record. Over the past two weekends, Summy learned to ride a bike without training wheels, with her father as her teacher. She is still a little wobbly when she has to slow down or go uphill, but she'll be there soon.

Life Lessons

It's easy enough to teach Math and Reading, frustrating though it might be sometimes.

But the hardest thing is to teach things that I haven't learnt well enough myself.

Like when she gets upset, and I ask her what she wants in the end - and whether she thinks the best way to get it is to be upset. Or sometimes, even question whether what she wants in the end is really the right thing to want.

Like when she feels like being selfish sometimes, and I ask her if that is the nice thing to do. She knows it isn't, but she doesn't like to say it. Then I remind her that the right thing to do is hard to do sometimes, but that in the end, doing that right thing is what makes you feel good inside.

Like when she wants to achieve greatness instantly, and I have to assure her that hard work will bring results, but that it will not always be quick and she will have to be very patient to see them.

The surprising thing is that at six, she is mature enough to understand most of what I say, and put it to practical use sometimes. The astonishing thing is that at thirthy three, I still am not always doing these things myself.

But it's all good. Every time I tell her something, I teach it to myself too. She grows up, and I grow up with her.

Outstanding Week

It is rare that things come together neatly one after another with satisfying clicks - but that's what happened last week, and I don't want to forget it.

After a very hectic three weeks, this is what we had:

On Wednesday, we put up our science project (which, at the last minute, ended up being a completely different one than the other three we had started last week) in the science fair.

After the dance recital last week, ballet classes ended - but not before her teacher told me that she had done an outstanding job, and told Summy to keep at it and not to stop dancing (even though to my laywoman's eyes, Summy's outstanding skill was not very apparent).

She got her progress report for this trimester on Friday, and in almost every social and academic area she got graded very well. She is even doing good in the area of not talking to her neighbors while doing class work, which is the most difficult part for her.

Finally, on Saturday, I watched with my heart in my mouth, as she went through her Tae Kwon Do belt test with unusual focus. We skipped the last belt test in December because she had been sick, and thus, not ready. I am sure that it was hard for her after that as others who were at her level, went to the next one. But she kept at it, and finally, today, she passed to the next belt level. And as a bonus, she won a "Best Form" award for doing it very well!

Forgive me for gushing, but I am so proud of her for having worked hard at everything that she is involved in, even when she was tired.

Now all that's left is to celebrate - and start putting on the party hats for her Birthday this week.

The Disappearing Friend

I sit outside Summy's Ballet class with several other moms.

One of them was a quiet Korean woman who always brought a book to read. After a couple of classes, we started to talk.

It is unusual for these kind of conversations to be anything but superficial. But we talked about all sorts of things (cabbages and kings, and whether pigs have wings). Every Wednesday, it was nice to look forward to.

Last week, at the Ballet recital, we sat together and watched our daughters' performances. When the performance ended, I picked up Sameera from backstage. It was late, and I was changing her shoes in a hurry. This friend tapped me on the shoulder with a smile, but I quickly said bye.

Then, yesterday was the last class of the session for Ballet. A lot of people didn't show up since the performance was already done, and that included the Korean woman and her daughter.

And suddenly, just like that, with not even a proper goodbye, no exchange of phone numbers or email addresses, my new friend is gone. I don't remember her name, and I'm betting that she doesn't remember mine. It is sad.

I do know that she is trying to get into a Doctorate program for Music in various schools around the country, and I wish her all the luck and success in the world.

Too Much of a Good Thing

The other day a friend commented on a post of mine, in which I wrote about Summy's activities - that I make everything sound nice. That's because I usually only blog when I feel good about something.

But there is another side to it. It is not entirely a good thing to have a mother whose job it is to take care of you and do activities with you, all the time.

Because this is what you could end up with: A mom who watches over your homework and makes you erase and redo the letter 'a' until you do it the way she thinks is right (even though your handwriting is actually better than hers); A mom who winces and flinches and makes other weird faces while she watches you make mistakes in Tae Kwon Do or Ballet or Math or anything else; A mom who goes overboard with your science project, completely taking over it; A mom who, instead of helping you see that the next test, game, or performance is but a dot in the large scheme of things, instead wraps her own life around your next test, game or performance.

That is not a mom, that is a momster. It is a fine line between the two, and I have to be real careful walking it. I slip often.

This is why I think that it is nice for every one in a family to have a piece of life that is completely detached from the others. It could be school, it could be a job, it could be volunteering, or a hobby, or learning something new. For a mom, this could help her remember that there is more to her life than taking care of her family - and to step away from the tiny details and see her child's life in wider perspective.

Leftovers are Berry Good

For four years now, I have been living (and growing) on leftovers. And I think most other moms are the same.

This morning I ate a blackberry leftover from Summy's breakfast, and it tasted strange and new.

Then I realized it was because it was strange and new. Though I've been buying them for my berry monster for years, there usually aren't any that Summy leaves behind. I think that this is the first time I tasted a blackberry.

Some other usual culprits: crust cut off from a grilled cheese sandwich, half of a cold hard waffle, congealed pasta from a lunch box, a slice of two of apple that's turned dark, and so on.

I don't know exactly what it is that makes them so, but Summy's leftovers, even when cold and old, are always so yummy.

What's New With Summy

I was always sure as a non-parent (and as parent of a baby and parent of toddler and parent of pre-schooler) that I would not have an over-scheduled kid, that my child would have lots of free unstructured time to play.

Ofcourse, now I'm the parent of an over-scheduled kid. But hey, I'm also a million other things that I said I'd never be.

And the over-scheduled kid is handling it well so far, and likes being busy. It is much better than the days when she would just sit at home in the afternoons and watch TV or play on the computer.

We started out with Tae Kwon Do. It started out all fun and games, but now I occasionally see a more serious, focused, and disciplined side of Summy. Still, Summy is Summy. She can't help giggling at something absurd in the middle of the class sometimes, and I vote for her as the little warrior most likely to smile at somebody or something.

Then we added Chess Club in school, at her request. Ever since she started that, she keeps begging me to play chess with her. The game's too complicated for me - it actually makes my head hurt. I try to convince her to play something like Chinese Checkers or Parcheesi instead, but Kiran obliges her every time. And sometimes, when Kiran is multi-tasking and distracted, she even beats him at chess.

Then we added Ballet, again her choice. She loves this, ofcourse, pretty outfits, pretty music, pretty moves and all.

Then came Drawing class at school, at her insistence. After the last session ended, I persuaded her to do her drawing at home for now, to lessen her load a little. Besides, she is so much more creative at home. She is not the color-neatly-within-the-lines kind of artist.

And then there was T-Ball. This was Kiran's choice, and a good one, because this is the only outdoor activity and she loves it. The grass, the dirt, the uniform, the glove, the all-girl team, playing with Daddy on weekends, everything.

And she wants to fit swimming in, when time permits.

All in all, I think it's a good life. Do a little bit of this, a little bit of that, throw in some games, a little music, a few steps of dance, maybe even try acting (it is LA after all). Meet new kids, make new friends. And continue with the things she loves.

Why so busy?

There was a time when I updated my blog at least once a week. I was busy then too - I took care of Summy, cooked dinners, and worked full time as a software engineer. But I still had time to write.

Now that I am at home, how long has it been since I updated? I think Summy has grown an inch since I wrote last. That's because I'm working a full time job for my daughter right now.

Walk her here, drive her there, cook for her, teach her, play with her.

As I speak: I got her outfitted, practised and organized for a ballet recital today; am working on three science projects with her (we will pick the least smelly one next week and submit it to the science fair - don't ask); preparing and practising with her every day for a Tae-Kwon-Do belt test; preparing to celebrate her birthday in two weeks; volunteering in her class every Tuesday.

And that is besides the routine making breakfasts, lunches, after-school snacks, dinners, kindergarten homework, extra first-grade workbooks that she does with me in exchange for me playing chess with her (her new favorite game), arts, crafts, and bedtime stories.

And that is on top of the regular household stuff like laundry, vacuuming, dishes, grocery shopping, and so on. And learning new technology on the side to keep myself updated, and occasional spurts of job-hunting.

When I started writing this post about me working for Summy - I was being funny, because I think of myself as lazy. But after reading what I wrote - Holy Guacamole! It is true, I really am swamped.

So there. That's why so busy.

Butterflies in my stomach

I recently volunteered at Summy's school for the first time. The day before, I told her I was going to be in her classroom. I asked if she was excited, and she said she was. I was too. I asked what the volunteeers usually did in her classroom. She said they helped out with activities.

Then, after a brief pause: "I know it's your first time, Amma, but be brave!"

Surprised, I say, "Okay."

"There are going to be a lot more kids than you think!"

For a while there, almost six years, I was the invincible super Mom. No more. She realizes that even her mother can be afraid, shy, and not so perfect.

But though I did have a butterfly in my tummy, it had nothing to do with being at Summy's school. It was this "Butterfly Award" that the Litterateuse sent me, which I swallowed up willingly.

This is so unexpected!!! (That is what I would have said if G hadn't already told me days ago).

I don't know what to say! (Gee, Thanks, G!)

In turn, here is my list of coolest blogs:

Litterateuse: Possibly, she's brought you here. She's new on the blogk, and here is a warm welcome to her. The title is very apt, and hers is one of the most entertaining, cool, clever, and punny blogs I've ever read. (and I'm not just scratching her back)

Winkie's Way: Beautiful, poetic, touching, funny, insightful. Way cool.

A Few Seasons Worth: Writes well and is so honest that it has got to be cool.

This Butterfly has already touched the Litterateuse (the idea of which I know makes her shudder). Tharini of Winkie's Way is on vacation. And I was only a lurker on A Few Seasons Worth and I don't know if Anumita will take this up. I do hope that this will get passed on.

An Entertaining Teacher

I decide to slow down writing on this blog, and the next day I remember a million things that I meant to say but never did.

Ever since Summy started going to school, I've noticed that she knows a lot of little things. "Soaring, " she tells me one day, "is when you don't flap your wings but spread them out and let the air carry you high above". Impressed, I ask, "Did your teacher tell you that?". "No, I saw it on Diego.". On TV.

She keeps telling me little facts like these, and when I ask her whether she learned it at school, she'll say, "No, I learned it on Backyardigans." Or Blue's Clues. Or Dora.

Finally, one day, she says, "See, I do learn some things from TV." (this is a comeback to what I had said weeks ago - that her mind would go blank if she watched too much TV). And I have to admit, it's true. For now.

Age Appropriate

Summy always checks the recommended age on a toy before getting it for anybody.

Today, we were shopping for a birthday present for one of Summy's friends. Summy stopped to look at an interesting toy, and then suddenly sighed. She said, "Never mind.".

"Why?"

"You have to be 20+ to play with this."

The box did say "20+", but what they meant was that there were more than 20 pieces to play with inside. When I pointed that out, Summy found it funny too, and laughed at herself.

Talking about age appropriate, this blog has slowed down considerably, and not for lack of material. Summy is just growing up, she is almost six, and I feel funny writing about her in a public blog.

It has been so fun sharing my Summy stories with all who have been reading. Thank you so much for visiting.

Edited to add, and in response to D: I didn't want that last line to be a parting shot, and reading it again, I feel that my post was too curt and cool (but it was just written while I was sleepy). I mean those thanks very warmly - it has been nice writing on this blog, but what made a big difference was to be read and be responded to.

I will still want to keep writing, either on this one or another, new, one, as long as you keep reading, D :)

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.

Mashpotams

Summy was eating strawberries and asking me if they were good for her. "Yes", I said, "They have antioxidants and are very good for you."

"Bananas are good for you too", she said. "They have lots of mashpotams."

"You're right", I agreed, smiling. "They do have lots of potassium."

Something smells fishy

Oh yeah, that's Summy's fish.

Summy picked them, Dad brought them home. Summy wrote fish to-do lists. Dad set up their tank. But who spends the whole day with them? Mommy.

We asked for sturdy fish that could survive a family who didn't know anything about fish. The guy at the store pointed at some fish that were kept individually in cups, and recommended that we bring home one male and two females to put in the tank.

At home, we put them all in the tank and went to sleep. The next morning, Kiran left for work, Summy went to school. I was working on the computer but all I could see was the fish chasing each other out of the corner of my eye.

It just so happened that these tough fish were Betta Splendens, also called the Siamese Fighting Fish for a good reason. And there could have been no worse advice than to put a male and females in one tank. The male Bettas are very very aggressive and don't tolerate others of their kind in close proximity, be they male or female. This is why (duh!), unlike the rest of the fish in the store, the Bettas were kept in individual cups. Ofcourse now I know that, after having watched Blackfish (the boy) terrorize Coffee and Angelina (the girls) and nip their tails.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I went back to the store for advice, and this time the advice was no better. They said I could return Coffee and Angelina for a refund.

How could I return fish that Summy had named? How could I put the fish back into the little tiny cups after they had the whole tank to swim in? How would I know that after I returned them, they wouldn't just be flushed down a big toilet that was specially built for the fish? The truth was that I hadn't "bonded" with the fish (that must be the zaniest sentence I ever wrote). But for better or for worse, we had got them and we had to care for them, even if they were just fish.

I divided the tank into two with a net, and isolated Blackfish on one side. Within two minutes, the two girls figured out that Blackfish couldn't get at them, and they seemed to enjoy staying right on the other side of the net and staring coolly at Blackfish as he went nuts trying to get at them.

So we took him out of the tank altogether, and put him in his own bowl. For now, everyfish seems happy, even though the two girls have little fish fights.

Now that there is less conflict, it's happier to watch them everyday. They are tiny little creatures one inch long, and I expected they'll just swim around aimlessly, all the same way. But each has its quirks. When I turn off the filter in their tank, they know food is coming. They seem to have good memories. Angelina prefers small pieces of fish food, while Coffee will eat anything. Blackfish is kind of picky, but he loves peas (I found out from Mother Internet that some fish can eat some vegetables).

And yes, now we've bonded with the fish.