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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.