How to break up?! Testing 1, 2, 3

 

Last night’s interesting conversation at the dinner table

P: “Mama, I broke up with R today!”

Insider: R is a Girl!

Mama: Last night..both of you were hugging each other and today you broke up?!

P: Yeah! I broke up with her because V is my new beast best friend. Then I came home and sent her a sorry email…

Insider: V is a girl too!!!

N: But she said she would delete P from her email listing.

Mama: You delete her too two times…. (trying to sound jocular!)

Mama: Anyways P! can you explain me how you break up?! What do you have to do…to be able to “Break Up”.

P: You shout at each other like “I can’t be with you anymore!” and walk away in the opposite direction…

Trying to illustrate the scene…

P: This is how we do it…You know Mama, V actually tested it out….She stood across the hallway and looked at me..like …

At this point Mama couldn’t help expose her poker face and burst out in a belly wrenching laughter…

The opportunities for these internet generation kids to break up and patch up…are 24x7 now.  They could just not be able to sleep through the night of a break up and just decide to send an instant message to patch up, thanks to smart phones and really generous parents who offer them the gadgets and the unlimited plan options the wireless firms offer. Really amazing, the generation we are bringing up..Are we capable of this? It made me think.

Having been trained a teacher..and with the software development experience I realize the importance of both visual aids and testing…but, this new internet generation kids have taken these concepts to a new level that’s beyond our stone age upbringing. 

I didn’t realize they had visualized breaking up to be such a visual act.   And what if the act of breaking up doesn’t create the impact its supposed to..?!  What if the process of delivering the break up routine turns out to be an “Epic Failure”, like P had described her break up test..

Now we’ll soon have ISO 9005..or , CMM level 10 certified breaking  up routines and how about certified patching up routines too. That makes more sense to me..Patching up! Undo a break up!. OMG!  Thinking about it..it does!

See…P wasn’t able to patch up with her friend R, inspite of the sorry email. There sure must be a fail safe way or maybe it depends on the personality.. Different styles for different personalities,  Fit to your size patch up routines…or one size fits all type-of routines. All tried and tested routines. Facebook or smart phone apps..to facilitate that!

My! What age do I belong to?!!! Such endless possibilities.

My cup of Trouble or Delight!!

When the triplets had turned 9 this summer..Richa had asked me when was it going to be her birthday. Actually, she had put it better,

“How long for MY birthday, Mama?”

Hers was the only name not on the cake..during this summer birthday.  Seemed so unfair. I had answered,

“6 months, Richa!”

She had exclaimed a disappointed “Ahwwww!” like she had any clue what 6 months meant.  Even today when somebody asks her how old she is, she answers in the elaborate..

“I am 4 olds now and I will be 5 olds in Ja-nu-ary. In 6 months!”

I’ve heard this phrase called  “The terrible 2s” but, seems like in case of Richa, the 2 is just extending seamlessly across all her years.

Of late she’s been troubling her Didis to her hearts content. She steals their pencils or erasers or just about anything they are working with and runs away, inviting them to a game of tag. 

How else can she get the attention of these popular angels of our home. She hasn’t been accepted into the sorority of her sisters, yet! Frustrating enough.  They seem to talk cool stuff, get to go in this big yellow school bus along with the rest of her friends, seem to know much more than she knows or comprehends!

She just wants to be there … at their level because the possibility of them toning down a little bit and talk stuff that sounds less gibberish to her..seems like a remote option.

She’s not the type who wants to give up, is she?! She’s up for the challenge. She makes up by showing them how agile she can be…

Just sneak up to them and flick their stuff and run around. They’ll be running behind her, the next second. She knows!  Now , she has the whole troop behind her…chanting her name!  Maybe bellowing sounds closer to the truth.

All of them running behind her..yelling

“Richa!! Richa!!! Richa!!!…give it back..!”

Sounding like music to her ears, her adrenaline getting a kick. The triplets, frustrated with this guerilla attack on them..have formed a union against her for such situations. They have realized the im-pon-tence (Richa’s version of ‘importance’)  of this phrase

“United we stand..divided Richa rules!!”

One of them is available to shout out,

“Mama..Richa took our stuff!”

Another is running behind her to get it back..without hurting her, for if Richa even feels any molecule in her body move because Didi managed to get a tight hold of her..she would be ready with her version of a war cry which even includes some foot stomping, following which, her Didi would be in for a dose of Mama’s medicine. 

So, that calls for some fine handling.

The third one is hiding all the other stuff from the table so Richa would not get her hands on them. After a full summer of dealing with this, day in and out, I’d only started to breath a little easy when I realize that the start of schools didn’t mean a stop to all this.

Now that the triplets had discovered Richa the Menace, they had started to keep their doors closed to her. They would lock the door of their room from inside and almost immediately, we have holler,

“Mama, Didis are never gone let me come into their room!!!”

Then, another one follows..this time from Mama,

“PNK!!!! What’s all this?!  I said, no playing with the doors!!”

Immediately..the doors open and Didis are shouting

‘Mama, she is stealing our things!”

Now, it was time for Mama to find a place to hide…

As much as she has been troubling the living day lights of us…every thing she speaks is a delight to hear. The other day, as I was working, Richa comes to me and asks..

“Mama, Did Didis tell on me?”

“About what?!”, I ask

“That I had taken their legos and run away!  Did they tell on me?”, she asks without even realizing that she is the one who is doing the TELLING on her!

“No, they didn’t say anything.., Why are you touching their stuff, Richa?!”, I ask, now that I’m aware of what she has been up to.

“Mama, Didis are never going to let me touch their city..their lego city”, she continues…

As much as she is enjoying being the shoe stealing puppy..she is very aware of all the talk around her .. She makes it a point to stop us point blank and clarify…her big doubts!

Hubby dear, who was on a call is heard saying..

“Ok Guys..I’m going to drop off now!”

“Drop off! What are you going to drop Papa?!”, she asks immediately. Or, another time…

“Mama, what is opposite..why did you say opposite?”

Which wasn’t as difficult to explain as when she asked..

“Mama, Why do you say internet?! What is internet?!”

She had just eavesdropped on a conversation that Papa and me were having.

“Richa, its another planet. It has lots of stuff called information in it and I can get that information on to my computer through these wires..”,

I say, suddenly caught unawares, unable to use words like networks, communication and sharing, emails etc.  I suddenly realized as I blurted out what had come to mind…I really wouldn’t have been able to define it if the triplets had asked me either.

They know better now..they find it easier to “Google” than to find out what a dumb a-- Mama is!!

Sometimes its confusing to understand the kids of this generation. How much information is too much for them, you wonder?

Thinking again, I don’t think anything is too much for these kids now-a-days.  I tell you, you start explaining to them the concepts of networking and trust me they will get it, much better than you did the first time!  I have that confidence. Then, I wonder, why I hold back…

Sometimes she reminds me…as if telling me

”Make no mistake of my innocence, mama!”

Like the time I told her…that bugs will start to make their homes in her hair, if she keeps refusing to wash her hair…and she replies, saying,

“You’re funny Mama!”

The other day, after we came back from school, I tried to find out from her if she had in fact eaten her lunch or thrown it in the garbage.

I was sure she would’ve have finished the yogurt because, that’s something she can live on and not want anything else. But, I still went on..

“Richa, are you sure you finished your yogurt?!”

“Yes..Mama, I did!”

“I will talk to Ms. J and find out if you really did”, I said, intently watching her for her reaction..Waiting for her to say…”Fine! I threw a little bit, Ok!”. Instead, she answered.

“Ok!..”

“Did you finish your jelly sandwich?!”

“Yes, Mama”

“How much did you throw in the garbage?”

As she searched for the right words…I was already glowing inside..thinking..

“Ahh there! I caught you baby!!!”

“Nothing!…I placed the two slices of bread on each other and then..I ate it all up, like this!”,  she answered, acting out the whole episode!

“Ok, let me check you tummy and see if I can feel the 2 slices of bread”, I say.

I just pressed a little bit here and a little bit there on her tummy…and acted like I am touching something and said..

“Here! I can surely feel one slice of bread here!”,

“But, where’s the other slice?!”, I asked..

“Really!!!, You can feel the bread in my tummy?!”, she asks, her eyes popping out,  totally believing me..Astonished, that one can do that.

She then..stops walking and spends some time feeling her tummy for a while and says..

“Ma…that’s 2 slices of bread! I can touch 2 slices of bread!”, she said with a sly smile that she couldn’t help hiding,  totally catching me of guard and letting me know.. “It was me who was taking you for a ride all this while, missy!!”

Recently, she had her hit with a harsh reality called HOMEWORK!   That she is liable to learn stuff forcefully too!!!

She has been getting a few minutes of Music and Dance lessons from the triplets Guru and suddenly she finds herself in midst of something that she had not signed up for!!  HOMEWORK!

She was supposed to memorize the Dadra Taal. A taal constituting of 6 beats (A measure of 3 beats!) with the finger movements. The simplest of all taals.  Somehow, this didn’t come across to her as a fun activity. You see, It came to her in the form of HOMEWORK!

Wasn’t HOMEWORK..something only Didis were supposed to do?!  She never had to do this before..She was just meant to do fun stuff, where she got to decide what she was in the mood for.

There was another insider information she knew about HOMEWORKS! Mama or Papa would eventually need to check it, sometimes with..some soft words, and other times, with some more softer words…not soft enough to mean they were fun..She knew that. 

She’s now liable for all this?!! 

When did life take this weird turn?!  The consequence of approaching her 5th birthday in another 4 months now, I remind her.

Why don’t birthdays feel enticing anymore?! I could hear her insides scream.  Same shoes that I find myself too Richa, I commiserate with her mentally.

She has suddenly understood the importance of remaining a small kid…

“Mama, I’m a baby still, you know!”, she reminds me. Already fearing a backlash, she adds,

“Fine!!! I’m not a baby, right, I’m bigger but, still a tiny kid!”, she says, trying to defend her stand, for not being subjected to any homework!

Sitting with me…as I’m trying to teach her this sequence of 6 funny words, to be repeated in a pattern, and she stares at me and says..

“I don’t know how to say that Mama”

She has learnt it early enough..agreeing to do some homework today, will be like asking for more, tomorrow!

Here I am…with my hands on my head, trying to hold on to whatever sanity is left while some more seeps away, well aware, that this girl will soon be doing all these things expected of her…Only, the road to getting there, doesn’t seem like an easy one. And, I wonder..why everybody asks me..

“Triplets!!! How did you take care of them?” 

Weren’t they the easiest, I wonder.

Are my kids turning deaf?

 

Luckily No!! It just turns out they are trying to experiment with their new found worldly knowledge of how big kids are supposed to behave. They are realizing the thrill of turning a deaf ear to their parents, already! They are enjoying the bliss of enlightenment they’ve recently attained, that parents get worked up, when they are brushed off or ignored by their kids, (I think!)

Today N asks me, “If I were deaf and dumb from birth, then I wouldn’t know a word of any language right, Mama? “ and I answer “Yes, probably!”. not knowing any better since, I have had no acquaintance of a deaf and dumb human being, unless I start to count my kids among them.

As soon as I answered, it got me thinking. That, if the triplets were fine, then why were they unable to understand a word of what I talk to them,recently?  I had tried English…Hindi and even Telugu. That was 3 of the languages they’ve already been exposed to. I had not tried Spanish since I wasn’t exposed to that except frantically yell  “corta, corta” to my lawn mowing contractor pointing to the grass and later, thank him saying “Gracias” appreciating his effort to understand my peculiar speech pattern.

Or, the words “Vamanos”, or  “abre” or “salta” that Dora seems to repeat at the drop of a dime. None of these words had anything to do with what I wanted to convey to my kids. So, you can understand my reluctance to try Spanish.

All this thinking, an exercise so rare but nonetheless exciting,  brought to my realization, that nothing I speak to my kids these days, seem to evoke a reasonable response from them. Nothing, we ask of them..gets them to follow directions or take notice of the speaker, the shouter..the yeller!, ME!  It doesn’t seem to bring their attention to me at all!  I might as well be an invisible something..during such moments and it wouldn’t make a difference. Or, I could very well even have a conversation with the wall around.  Maybe, my faith in the walls around was stronger, and would surely get them to answer me.  It would be another story to recount in that case, of devils and ghosts etc…

Still, in spite of all this..I refused to believe that my kids were turning deaf, because, some thing else happens when I start to talk to them. They find many more attractive things around them..which they wouldn’t have paid a heed to in a million years, had I not turned on my speech. They seem to find all those much more interesting, than, to decipher words falling out of my mouth..

Why?! I dont know but, consider this.

I had dropped by the triplets school, to pick them up for a doctor’s appointment the other day. They were taking their own sweet time waltzing around the corridors before they reached me at the office. It was a once in a life time opportunity, right!! That, an elementary school kid gets to walk across the corridors of their school, peeping into the other classrooms, with nobody to report back to because, she’s already been signed off, right?!  So, while they are trying to use that to the fullest extent…I managed to spot them. This mean eyed creature spotted them. 

We were supposed to be on our way to the doctor’s office at that moment. Considering, if we gave ourselves about, 15-20 minutes for the drive, I had reached their school 40 minutes ahead of the appointment.  Little did I know, my kids love to walk the corridors of their school. Even stopping by to admire the periodic bare walls, taking more than 20 mins to reach the spot where I could look at them. I had already lost 20 mins, and we were no where close to the car, parked outside.  Without giving a care, I had almost yelled across the serenely quite corridors, asking them to walk faster…instead of a response that one would expect to see..P had stopped to watch something on the way.  

Was she able to understand or hear me right, I had thought.

Let me illustrate another episode, this time it was K’s turn to exhibit this idiosyncratic behavior pattern.

K was taking her sweet time eating her breakfast just as she has always done since the day she took the first bite of food. I had asked her to eat faster just as I always have done since the day she took the first bite. But, instead of remembering to continue chewing on her food, she stops, her hand stopped in mid air, her mouth staying open..she looks at me, and everything freezes.. as if I had commanded her to Freeze.  I had to remind her again

“K, I didn’t ask you to freeze. I had asked you to eat faster”, I repeated it this time, showing with action.

That got her to continue eating without even any change in her speed at all! My talk had just caused a pause for a few minutes, instead of the expected response of eating faster.

Was she able to understand me or even hear me, I had thought.

Now it was N’s turn to display this weird behavior pattern that had put me into a stressful mode.

Between the 4 of them..they use more than 40 pair of socks a week. Sometimes, changing more than 2 pairs in a day.  When they remove them, they just turn the sock over to get it off their feet. When its time for laundry, It takes me as much time to sort the laundry and turn the socks to the right side, as much time it would take the wash cycle to complete. So, I had requested the kids to turn the socks to the right side when they get it off their feet. When it wasn’t acknowledged, I had demanded that of them.  Still, no response!  Now, it was time to threaten them….. 

When I go over to sort the laundry, what do I find. There are still a few pair of socks that have not been turned inside out. Whose socks were they?  They were N’s. It had continued to be so for a few days.

Was she able to understand me or even hear me right, I had thought.

If I look at how they have changed from toddlers to the present..I know its only going to get worse. Today I got to be in my Mom’s shoes and felt as she had felt years ago, helpless and exposed, not knowing who to turn to, for direction, for consultation, for tips on parenting on the topic:

How to deal with a kid who loves to ignore?

But, the only difference is, I have the advantage of the internet today. I could turn to my friends for advice.

“Anybody has any pearls of wisdom for me??? “

“Anybody has any similar experiences, they’ve had and dealt with???”  other than telling me..

“Its a phase, and its going to pass”!!

The Paper, The Information, The Conclusion!

My reading mostly entitles anything printed I could lay my eyes on..from any source, as I sit in front of my computer and browse the internet, or cursorily glance through the news paper, magazines (while I wait in the pediatrician’s office or the physical therapist’s office to help me fix my back or neck ). It could be the most pointless of articles or the most touching, intelligent or wittily written blog entry. Basically, any small non-fiction articles.

Fiction and non-fiction BOOKS seem totally off limits for me at this point, for lack of time and focus. Yeah! I have the attention span of a toddler.  I never grew up in that respect. Look at me, I brag about this like I’m so proud of my accomplishment and then, get mad at my kids if they exhibit the behavior. Maybe, I can also add “reason” to my list of “never-grew-up” stuff. No wonder, I feel so much at home with my kids and they with me!

Since mistakes do happen, I do sometimes get carried away by a book or two, like I used to in those bygone days....but then, Richa will not spare a moment to remind me, what else I should be putting my mind into, like, a tiger game where I get to be the crawling tiger and also get to catch her while she runs around, or, the triplets would remember, they needed  help with their homework just when the clock strikes the gong to inform them,

“Lights off, Its Sleepy time”

just enough to get me back into my nagging routine of how irresponsible they had been, to save this for this hour. Or, they would have created a show, ready for us to watch.

Luckily, creativity is not alien to them as it had been to me  So, this situation of mine, where I crib so much about lack of time..seems to be a win win for me.  After, blaming my lack of reading on,

“Why aren’t there 30 or 50 hours in a day?”

and my kids, I do eventually, get to do lots of fun stuff that I like and a little bit of parenting too in the process.

The one newspaper I get a lot to read, (or skim through) thanks to Hubby dear who doesn’t want to subscribe to any other, is the Wall Street Journal, or WSJ. Its one paper that needs some conditioning to get used to, just like one needs to condition your tongue to Thai food. I remember the first time I had it..couldn’t stand that weird taste.

Seemed so close in taste to an Indian curry yet, there seemed to be some flavor that spoiled the whole dish.  While all the others among our group were hoggin on saying..Yum! ( I remember one colleague from work, who used to use all the paper towels at the table to wipe the sweat of  his forehead  and still continue to order cut green chilies' on the side, apart from his extra hot red curry order.), I was unable to appreciate it.

Coming back to this WSJ, it comes like this big fat book and looks so raw and in no sense attractive. There are hardly any pictures..just reams and reams of paper with letters and numbers printed so tiny, that a person with a 20/20 vision would need a magnifying glass to read. There is nothing that hints “Masala” on it. There is no “E!” news anywhere.

Eventually..after a little struggle, one gets to know the spots to find the “Masala” news! Not the “Masala” we Indians know Masala as, but, what WSJ wants you to construe it as.

The way this paper is read..works like this. Its delivered early in the morning even before sunrise, wrapped in sheets of plastic. Most people commuting by train read this ( ignoring the ones that yap on the phone sitting beside you ), like its their indispensible caffeine, only, they need a cup on the side, with that real hot beverage too, to help assimilate the stuff in the paper lest, it puts them to sleep! Once people reach their destinations…there are newspaper bins all around where those papers are disposed off. But, Hubby brings them back for me, most times, like he used to, for my Dad, during the time he visited us when the triplets were born.

My Dad,  was a diabetic, blind in one eye, and could hardly see much from the other too. He was always spotted with this big magnifying glass trying to make out words from those tiny prints of the WSJ. He used to hold on to each letter until he figured out the word and consequently the sentence.  The visual of him bent on that paper with the magnifying glass, still so clear in my head. WSJ had managed to capture his interest too.

You would realize how difficult this process of getting used to reading newspapers like WSJ is,  if you would come across the Indian newspapers like “Indian Express” or “Deccan Chronicle” or “The Hindu” and many others that are circulated, in the city I come from, in India.

Those have big pictures, quite a few tasteless, without any censor when it came to showing crime scenes, of Movie stars and socialites. If there wasn’t a scam to report, or a political scenario where some politician, had not changed parties, or, forming a new one, news bits like, “John Abraham insures his tush for 10 Crores” would be top news. (That’s the bit I read when I was in India last summer).  There is no dearth of such “Masala” and the newspaper is so light almost without any grammage attached to it. Used to be fun reading them.

That I’m stuck with WSJ now, aware of what's happening with the Arab nations right now, I start to turn the pages. I’m not interested that Facebook raised $50 billion with help of Goldman Sach’s or that there is a poll on how people perceive Apple’s Steve Jobs leaving the company for health reasons, or that Goggle’s CEO is very smart but most times very rude too. That he idolizes Steve Jobs or that Jobs has been on medical leave again..or that, walkway rage is as real as road rage or that ICU treatment has been shown to cause some brain damage in the long term due to keeping patients sedated for long durations.

What caught my attention was this tiny article that said that a happy marriage is always about finding the right sized partner. Immediately, my mind raced around sizing up myself with Hubby and many other couples,  and sizing them up against their partners weight wise and height wise! I’ve seen couples where the man is tiny compared to the woman, or couples where the man is as tall as a tower and the wife a tiny midget, ( our classic Big B couple, right! ). Were they happy?! 

I continue to read, research mentions that as the years progressed in ones marriage…men with body mass index greater than his wife’s were found to be happier.  Similarly, in a woman’s case, the happiness index in her marriage stayed put or increased if she was tinier than her man.  So, all happiness in marriage melted down to one thing that I myself, had been struggling all along to achieve, in my marriage too. The woman needs to be tinier than her man. I mean … Thinner than her man! But, how does one achieve that with a Hubby like mine?!

I know Hubby dear loves challenges, but, why does he have to choose mine for me?  He could have made this easier on me..by keeping his BMI higher than mine, right? No! he will go ahead and reduce his BMI further and brag about it too!  Then, he tops it by convincing me over the years..that, it didn’t matter to him, that I’m out of shape, I’m fat, or growing older.  He would love me irrespective of anything, even if my BMI was more than his, reminding me that my BMI was more than his :-(

Somehow, I knew all those sweet words were too good to be true. Now, research has proved it so. It had opened my eyes as to why Hubby dear would insist that I work out, and keep fit.  For my own self, and for our kids, he had said. He had conveniently put all that “To be liked” onus back on me! How do I convince him..I already am in love with myself. I have always been..since the day I came alive into this world. The most selfish kind of love.

So, I decide to take on this challenge of getting my BMI below his disgustingly low 1#% (I’m guessing its around 13-14 maybe, who knows, could be less too!). I increased the pace of my workouts, reduced the amount of food, but, I see no signs that I’m anywhere close to my goal. I struggled everyday..to ignore all this food around me, as I work out in the kitchen, washing dishes and cooking while he easily looks through all this food around..like it was just thin air. .

With just enough salt to dress my wound, he’ll have a smoothie for lunch like his magic metabolic rate needs it, while I would think of what’s for lunch, after having the smoothie.  Wouldn’t the world have been a better place for me, if I had not caught a glimpse of this article? Ignorance is so blissful. And if it is so..why even bother thinking so much, my lazy mind reminds me?

There’s more to add to my woes. Its never so bad that it can’t get worse, right?! There was another article waiting to catch my attention on another page…on something called the “Gut Brain”. I had always had this Gut feeling that something more was to come.

So, this article tells me, our Gut has nerve cells as many as the brain of a cat and it can tell the bigger brain, the one that resides inside our head..that its not hungry anymore and that, it should turn on the “not hungry” sign now. That, the hand should stop approaching the food. That the eyes shouldn’t find the site of food appealing anymore..and its smell, should feel nauseating!

How come my Gut Brain wasn’t wired like that? My Gut Brain did many more things than what was mentioned. My gut brain had made me feel “Panic” when confronted with a difficult situation. It had made me feel weak in my knees and made it wobbly. My gut brain only gave me “Butterflies” in  my tummy, when I felt nervous, like the time when the results of my exams were to be announced. It had made my tummy feel that “Weird” feeling when Pavan came close to me for the first time. The feeling very well used in this blog and described by Hobbes from “Calvin and Hobbes”.

My gut brain had made my head feel  “Giddy” and my heart “Stop”  when we couldn’t spot one of the triplets in the mall..while they played a prank on us at the mall. ( That was the day we had decided never to go to the mall with the kids.)

I remember, holding on to my tummy for support, squeezing it, like something was jumping inside, during such situations.   But, It never told me that I needed to stop eating because I wasn’t actually hungry during the times, I wasn’t hungry and still hogging away to glory. In fact, I ate more in such situations.

“I had told you this all along, didn’t I?! “, squealed Hubby dear,

to remind me, I didn’t need to eat as much as I do..when I mentioned to him about this Gut Brain.

“I need all that food Dear!!” I screamed,  “How will I be able to do all that work I have in the day? I hardly get to sit down in the day!”

So, I decide, I’m now going wait for those foods that Nestle and others are developing that’s going to be very slow to process by the Gut..and going to makes one feel full very soon. The 2 main signals that the Gut Brain is able to tell the bigger brain that makes us less hungry, and feel full for longer!

Then I come to the disappointing part of the news..

”it’s going to be 5 more years to see them in the market”, I read.

“Oh! what a torture!”

In the end..I give up and realize, there is no way to satisfy Hubby dear.

“My BMI is never going to be lesser than Hubby dear’s” and if our marriage is to continue with its happy days, it’ll have to do that in spite of my BMI compared to my Hubby’s or my Gut Brain refusing to tell me..that I’m not actually hungry.Or how about, I just change to reading another newspaper.

But, then I’ve noticed in the recent past, the articles that were short listed by Hubby dear from the WSJ, later caught on with the other networks and newspapers as well, means, there is no winning in this situation.

Then I remembered the old couple I saw last summer, as they were going about their evening walk talking with each other, engrossed in each other, listening to each other, so preoccupied with each other. Nothing around the world mattered more to them, than each other. The man was tiny and short,  the woman huge compared to the man. They looked so satisfied and happy together.  Did it even matter that the woman’s BMI was more than her man’s? Did it even matter that the woman was not tinier than her man? That’s the picture that brought back the calm in me and I told myself, I need to trust my Gut some more.

I went down to the kitchen and had a sumptuous meal. :D

Richa, Don’t come!

 

It had been a summer afternoon. All of us had had a sumptuous lunch of starch!..It had shown itself in so many forms and we had jumped at it hungrily and consumed it greedily. The kids had laden themselves with Idlis, White Rice and Papad, while, we grown ups, the Moms, Dads, Grandmas and Granddads, had not only loaded ourselves with those yummy Idlis..we had also added some Kheer and Upma made of Starch..( Yes! did it remind you of those starch balls called “Sabu Dana”). Right, we had ravenously eaten copious shares of those yummy appetizer and dessert too, apart from the starch and fat ridden main course.

It reminds me of this “Calvin and Hobbes” strip.

So, maybe, it wasn’t a healthy menu but, it was a tasty one. And we had gulped as much as we could of that heavenly food. So what, if it had made my kids get a bountiful load of empty calories. So what, if it had made them so hyper and us so full and sleepy. Remember, Kumbakarna and his six months of sleep pattern. Right! we were ready for that after that meal. The triplets were about 3 years old then. Usually, when driven around in the vehicle, they used to fall asleep. But, not today. Not after this meal.

We had returned home carrying those heavily burdened bellies, first perching them on our lap as we sat in our vehicle and then, letting it hang as we got off the vehicle and managed to get the kids to their rooms. We had even helped the grand parents to their respective nap spots. Then, we had asked each of the triplets to get into their toddler beds and have a nap because, we grown ups needed very badly to have one too.  They looked at us so meekly, giving that innocent “cooochy…pooochy” looks and almost making us feel guilty that the thought of keeping a watch on them, had even crossed our minds. 

Richa was no where in the picture then.  We went and lay in our room. At that time it was just “Mama and Papa’s” room. As we dozed off into sleep we could hear the ruckus happening in the other room through the intercom.

There were excited shreaks and loud noises. The kids were obviously hyper. They were not going to sleep now. So, we let them continue their play, but when the noise got louder, we had to stop it..I went to their room and what did I find..all the walls were colored with crayons…Only K’s spot was clean. N had put layer after layer of crayons on the wall adjoining her bed and P had done the same at her spot.

That was it…I got so mad that, after that day..I loaded the home with so many paper supplies that the kids never looked towards the wall again. They had easels, and boards and art paper and doodlers and drawing books and coloring books that, if they desired to scribble for the whole year non-stop, they could find paper to do so..

It had taken us 2 coats of the strongest primer available in the market to hide those crayon marks. I had done that for their fifth birthday. I had gotten them pink walls.  (They had almost been free to add more crayon marks where they had and I wouldn’t be able to find out). 

All this availability of paper had gotten them into this habit of putting everything in their mind onto paper, either through drawings or writing. Now,  this started a new trend at home..The need to stick these pieces of art and literature on to the walls. When the walls were zoned off from sticking stuff on it, the doors became their next target.

Fast forwarding a few years..Richa was born and is 4 today. Today also, the triplets continue to be the same. RIcha has also joined them in this effort. Actually, she had taken it a step further and let us know she belongs to the current generation. She prefers typing on a word editor!!

Her Didi’s still scribble their thoughts or their art on to paper and put it on their door  for everybody’s display. Sometimes..there are seasons greetings for thanksgiving, Christmas or just paper cuttings of snow flakes itself. Other times, there are instructions for their family and friends telling how to behave once they enter their room..A few weeks back it was this:

That’s the sign that was posted on the triplets door..It had been there for some time now. Suddenly, Richa notices that it was her name indeed on that paper all this time! No wonder, it had looked so beautiful. Her name written so big that it almost felt like a decoration for the door. She felt so proud of it.  She brings that sheet and sticks it on the door that belongs to HER!   Its the room she calls..”Mama, Papa and Richa’s” room.

From the day she was conceived, it had ceased to be “Mama and Papa’s” room. It had become her room. Mama and Papa have no choice but to accept that it was “Mama, Papa and Richa’s” room. If Mama and Papa were cruel enough to omit her name along with the room’s, she would be kind enough to attach it. She would very politely add “and Richa’s room”. Even if a slightest suggestion was on the table that the room just belonged to “Mama and Papa”, there would be an uproar which Mama nor Papa would be able to calm. 

Trying to get her to accept Didi’s room as hers, Mama and Papa, have even put her to sleep in Didi’s bed every night, but, there is a bed bug or a nightmare hidden in that room, that has taken Mama and Papa to task on this. It always wakes up Richa, in the night and lets her know…she is not on her own bed. She sincerely thanks the bug for reminding her every night, before she comes back to the bed she should be sharing with Mama.

She didn’t care that her Didis had put up this sign that says “Richa, Don’t come in” on their door during moments of despair when she wrecks their stuff. Who cares if anything is even written after the word “Richa”. The most important word that ever matters to her is “Richa” and its on that paper. It was written so boldly, almost adding a world of beauty to that paper in a jiffy.

Even if told verbally that she  is not allowed to enter their room, she never recognized nor understood those curfew conditions. All these things hardly mean anything to her. She believes in what she knows.  That she lives in “Mama, Papa and Richa’s” room and she also almost lives in “Didi’s” room. She frequents the room just as she pleases and stop them from clearing the room, when they try to so, she could continue to be at the table where she is coloring or on the bed where she is lying and watching TV or reading a book.

I can imagine if the same was written for P, N or K. There would be clashes between the three, that would take us ages in Mom years, to resolve. Dare if Papa put up such a sign for Mama.. Can you imagine the Battle of Kurukshetra erupting from the flames of that sign? Now that Richa has planted the message herself on the door..How many more Mom Years is it going to take to convince her of the MMMAATTER on the sheet?! Any guesses?  :D :D :D :D :D

 

P.S. As much as I portray this as a problem..there is nothing more beautiful for me than to give that comfort of protection to my kids while they sleep. If I just kept the privacy, the inconveniences,  and all the other matters the world makes such a big deal of, aside, I love to share my bed with my kids infinitely.

At least, it makes me aware, which kid of mine grinds her teeth or kicks me out of bed, or turns around 180* in bed with her covers everywhere except on herself or, talks in her sleep. I will also be able to know what’s going on in that little head of theirs while they mutter in their sleep.  And when they cry out, scared by a bad dream, or a loud thunder..I would be able to give them a tight hug so they could relax and fall back to sleep.

Keeping this in mind..we had bought this huge king sized bed so all of us could fit into it sometimes but, who knew, kids grew up so fast or beds get smaller by the day, or Mama and Papa also add to their size by the day! :D , or that, we would have Richa to add to the number, one day.

Love you so much my babies!

Confidence!

 

When I see Richa talk to people around her..to other kids in her class,  with her Didi’s friends, in a gathering, I find her talking confidently, without any restraint, whatever comes to her mind, no filter between the brain and mouth. sometimes even to gain attention or impress other parents especially, her teacher. She is not trying to be friends or fit in.  What can one expect of a toddler right?!  Even if some inadvertent talk comes of her mouth..she is easily forgiven or..we just laugh it off. I find the other kids in her class behave the similarly too. No inhibitions, very assertive…they haven’t still found the “shy” monster to hover over them. Modesty not being their virtue. 

She gives me instructions on how I should place her plate of food and water at the table..like I actually, learnt it from her. If I tell her that I’m going to stop feeding her..that she isn’t eating..She answers saying

“Mama..I’m eating, I’m not swallowing!!”

Its cute..the ways of these preschoolers. Playing teacher, maybe you decided to feign ignorance..maybe, you didn’t follow the same sequence of toasting the bread and spreading the butter on it..Then beware! they will give you a mini training course on the right way of toasting the bread and spreading butter.

Another time, when I spoke of the deer who was waiting under the steps outside. She had insisted that it was not a deer but a reindeer and it was waiting for Santa. I walked away convinced that , that might indeed be the case. Why else was that deer so confidently staying put in its spot, in spite of watching us, watch it from the window. It surely had some support ..that invisible Santa, it was!

She also is very particular of how she wants to dress up.  Always interested in dresses that show off more skin!!

“Its so cold, you can see the snow outside”, I try to show her proof!

Crying and bouncing in frustrations is what follows.

She needs to dress her way, not because she wants to impress her peers. I haven’t seen her notice, how her peers dress in class.To her, this is the way she is going to feel good. She is happy with the 2 pony tails she wears everyday. 

She has some dress codes. She needs to wear a “Lehenga” when its time to pray or to meet Aunt D( I wonder why she made this connection of an Indian costume with Aunt D ). The main point being..she talks what comes to mind and dresses as she feels, not influenced by any fashion trends.  Carefree, unaware of any consequences attitude.

It reminds me that my triplets had been like that at one time too.  They used to talk without any reservations, so cutely, many times, putting us in embarrassing situations when they commented about somebody inappropriately, so loudly! But now, they are so self conscious of what they talk. They have become very shy and elementary school wise too!

  (4 pony tailed N)

N used to wear 4 pony tails on her head at one time..Right 4! The 2 normal ones on the side..one tiny band, in the front that held her fringe and one at the back to hold that extra hair coming off.  She loved this style. She felt like it was her signature. It looked different from all of her friends. She wasn’t bothered to fit in, then. She just loved being different.  I had felt that she is one confident kid..

K had been a shy baby so, there isn’t much I can compare of her from then and now. P had been a bully when she was a toddler. The way she demanded a hug when she had done something wrong and she got reprimanded. That was her closure to the incident. Nothing else would matter if this wasn’t completed. The ring of that bass sounding cry is still there in my ears.

“I want a huggy”

Now, 8 years younger, she is the same as far as needing the hug..but doesn’t feel bold enough to ask for it…with the same confidence.

All this reminds me that Richa will soon become different too and I wonder how to make this carefree spirit of hers stay, as she grows.  I think that will be a battle I am never to win because, this is the law of growing up, right?! That, kids start to get aware of their surroundings, aware of the expectations that are set of them, the different types of people around them, their friends, who they want to be associated with, their peers, the need to be liked by their classmates, the need to fit in, to belong to a group, to weigh, how cool their fellow classmates are, with the number of friends they have..and that omnipresent..self-consciousness. What if, somebody will mock them for what they just said or how they dressed? They don’t want to be different or unique anymore!! What if, some classmate at school will say “Eeewww”?!

This morning...Neha was totally confused about how she should wear her hair...She felt,  it was long enough to be tied up but, disagreed on how I had suggested it  to be tied up.
She wanted it tied in a way that wasn't working...She insisted on this, and I wondered why! A very good guess turned out to be true. Her friends at school were having their hair tied like that. 

“Well fine, go ahead and try..but, you don't have long hair on the back of your head!” I reminded her.

“Why don't you hold them together on the sides..you will be able to have 2 ponytails..”, I suggested.

That felt very childish to her..She’s all grown up..right?! She’s all 8 years BIG…far from being a kid.  OMG!! just a little knowledge of 3 years in school and they think..they are BIG! The rest of them..are kids. The kindergartners, the first graders, the second graders..They are kids. Not her!

The most important reason:

“What if my friends say Eeewww?”

I tried to explain her the importance of being confident.. Tried to explain her ..how trends start. How some confident person dresses a way and it gets into vogue.  All this talk,  did help her to come to a compromise on how she is going to tie her hair..but, I don’t think she bought any of my talk..or at least..she didn’t feel confident enough to be that person who, will start a new trend. But, when she returned that evening..her hair was still tied the way she left in the morning. Yey!!

K had hurt herself over the weekend. She had fell and, her teeth had cut the skin on the inside of her mouth..Now she had a BIG doubt of her own..

“What if my friends want to see the hurt, Mama? What if they ask me to show the hurt?”, she asked me.

“Show them”, I replied.

“Then, they are going to say “Eeewww” to me”, she said.

“Then don’t show!”, I told her unable to suggest anything that would be right in her perspective.

P was in front of the mirror, trying to decide on her hair style, if she should leave them free or bind them with a band. She had already spent a lot of time deciding that leggings is not something she can wear now…She prefers the boot cuts but, the leggings feel warm..she had thought.

Still, she chose the boot cuts over the warmth of the velour leggings. Style had already taken precedence over comfort. When she returned from her school, she was sad and crying.

“I wasn’t invited to my friends birthday party!” she cried.

I tried explaining her..it must have been inconvenient for her parents to hold a bigger party and they must have had a smaller party in which they called close friends.

She had wanted herself to be among those friends who made it to the party! Some of her classmates lived in the same community as the birthday girl, who made it to the party. It took a while for me to explain her that it was ok for kids to choose close friends and reminded her…

“You have your own circle of friends around your home too, right!”

“But, I want to be V and M’s friend too!”, she wailed.

“Why don’t you get friendly to their moms?!”, she demanded of me.

Not only was I supposed to get her to realize that friendship cannot be forced..but, now I was expected to force my friendship on her classmate’s moms, disregarding their schedules and whatever it is that we moms are busy with.  How do I explain to this child that we grown ups need to feel that “click” in our minds to take friendships to the next level, that is, when we have the time and patience to consider a new social acquaintance.

“Look at the positive..You three are a group yourself, and, you didn’t need to do anything to belong to this group!”, I continued trying to convince them.

All this need to belong to a group..will surely be one of the struggles of  growing up. Its bound to happen, that eventually, they will find that one or two or group of friends who, they will finally feel, they belong with. Until then..they are going to try to follow trends, and promise parties to their friends so they will get accepted among them.

Welcome to growing up my darlings!!

Apologizing!

There are always situations everyday, when we end up hurting people around us..either intentionally or unintentionally, by our choice of words, by our actions.  The world agrees, the only plausible thing that should follow such situations, is an apology, an act of genuine remorse.

What is one’s idea of a sincere apology? Should it show compassion and humility? Should it mean “I’m sorry for what I did, I realize I hurt your feelings and I can see, you are suffering”, and take responsibility for the situation? Be it for hurting somebody’s feelings, or betraying somebody’s trust, missing an appointment, or being late, or any other myriad reasons there could be. 

But, how many times have we really apologized to the person we wronged with this intent? Isn’t an earnest apology, so much easier said than done? Many times, one is not able to translate these feelings into words. Could it be due to being callous,  insensitive, that, one doesn’t even realize, somebody is hurt, or, are we just being cautious? Is it due to our inflated ego, or, our own self righteous attitude?!!!  The Wall Street Journal..writes that women apologized more than men!  Mostly, men are so hard boiled to even understand that they have offended somebody.

They are wired that way…it says!

How convenient…I say!

Most of the times…they are apologizing …just to end the drama. They don’t even know what wrong was done!

Look at this clip that was published in Wall Street’s Personal Journal.  What are some of the apologies that we have used from the ones listed below? Other than the only type of apology that matters, which is “a sincere apology”, many of us have done all these types of apologies, isn’t it?…

The most used that I have seen around me, is the Strategic Apology. I didn’t even need to train my toddler at it. She’s already an expert at it. Its the most favorite of mine too! A perfect solution to a difficult situation with Hubby dear.

Lets consider my toddlers apology. If only I could execute a quarter value of her apology to hubby dear, we would be the sweetest couple on the block. Only, I don’t have a sweet tooth :-)

When Richa finds herself cornered, she has no qualms about apologizing to mommy or her siblings. She does it with little resistance.  With her Didi’s, they hug her before she could blurt the words out. With me, she comes to me with those kitty eyes..(the ones that puss shows in Shrek 3) and hugs my legs, pulls my hands around her to hug her..and its done!

To her, its the best way to get out of a hot seat. It not only means that she’s sorry that she got caught doing it..but, also

“Lets stop talking further about this now that I’ve apologized”.

This apology doesn’t guarantee that she’ll not be repeating it again, thanks to her toddler mind, which remembers all the privileges that she is eligible for, but goes easy, on her memory of things, she should not be doing, although, there’s always a promise of not repeating at the table. I guess, parenting has made us smart enough to elicit this out of our kids, however meaningless that might be!

I’ve done a lot of such apologies too, when I’m not interested in continuing an argument with Hubby dear, when I didn’t feel like it was my fault, or that, what I said shouldn’t have been construed the way it was, or, when we are each talking apples and oranges, when each of us feels that our opinion is right…Then, the easiest way I see, is to, apologize my way out of the situation. A strategic apology is what I end up with.  But, with the time that we’ve been together, we are able to gauge this of each other..We’ve each gotten smarter at it. At making such an apology and deciphering one too!

Now the process of demanding a categorical apology starts. He starts to find out..why I’m apologizing because, in the course of our argument we’ve already hurt each other much more than we initially started out with. So, this apology is for the previous faux pas/opinion  (Aren’t we entitled to our opinions, anyways?!) , or, for the deliberate hurting comments that followed later, or both, becomes necessary to know. The categorical apology becomes necessary.  It sometimes, runs the risk of becoming a Too-Late apology! 

“You’ve hurt me further,  Now, there’s no undoing, I feel even terrible. Leave me alone!!!!”,  I would end up saying to Hubby dear.

“ How can you be so cruel?”.  Almost bullying him into rubbing his nose to the ground, for peace between us.

There is another silver line I have! The Kids!  They go to Papa asking him to finish this argument off, between us.  Papa dear cannot refuse this of the kids. After that request..nothing matters.  Still, it would sometimes run the risk of becoming a Defensive Apology, or a Contingent Apology like ...

“I’m sorry, if what I said was hurting..but, you shouldn’t have said….blah blah…”

or

“I’m sorry, if I hurt you with my opinion..I was just expressing mine…blah blah..”

How would I classify the apology that happens between my triplets?  Most times, the apology they give to each other, does turn into a sincere heart felt one, although, it usually doesn’t start off like that.  To quell a tense situation between them..is one hard thing for me to deal with…

Especially, when they start to bawl and let out boat load of tears, as they are just about to apologize to their siblings. On our instruction, of course!! We, as their parents, had found them guilty..and their punishment, an apology.

Sometimes, P had described the reason for her breaking down, to her feeling of intense regret. Basically, she was very sorry for being such a jerk..for being caught!  Not only is it a pain to play a judge and find out who is wrong and who is not, who should apologize in a battle between them,  we are in for this tearful extravaganza that we need to quell too!!

Once something like that starts, I tell you, its hard to reason out with them, its hard to say if they are listening to us, if they understand us.  How many times haven’t we parents found ourselves in such a situation, and ..wanted the kids to sort out their fights between themselves? 

Not only does it become hard to judge, I get carried away with the kid who is able to put forth their case in the most logical way ( conforming to my contorted sense of logic of course!), even though this kid must be at fault and is very good at covering up her fault. Now what results is an undeserved title for the mom. Unfair Mom! Mean Mom! Partial Mom!

How we try to dodge these titles each day can be a book in itself, right Moms? (Reminds me!  I’m speaking/thinking just like my parents did when they were in our shoes!  Reminds me! of the saying. “Once we start justifying what our parents did, we are old!”)

All this said..I can’t but, have all praise for my children when they do end up apologizing to each other. The intensity and honesty with which they hug and cry holding each other. Its a lesson for me to learn. Instead of me setting an example to them..they make this class on contrition, seem like a breeze to me. I learnt that its just the first move that’s difficult to make. After that…everybody feels good.  We end up with cleansed souls..and hearts, so much lighter.  The world looks like a fair place again, right?!

What about the statistics that mention, we offer more apologies to strangers than loved ones.  How many of you’ll find yourself apologizing to perfect strangers or your friends more often? Either you brushed against them inadvertently in a crowd..or, you just have to ask them..what the time is, or, you just came to know u’r friend had not been well or ,you’re just at a loss of words that “Sorry” seems the right thing to say.

I surely can count myself among this breed who is able to apologize to a stranger/friend at the drop of a hat, to the point that sometimes, the number of times I utter “Sorry” is counted. On the same note,  I find it very difficult to do the same when it comes to my loved ones.  As I grew up…my new found independence had made it very difficult for me to apologize to my parents or my siblings. Now, its my spouse that I find the most difficult to apologize to.

“What if I apologize? Won’t I get vulnerable?..This is going to be in my record for the rest of my life, that I was the one who had erred!”  Many times, truth is a matter of ones opinion so, it gets hard to even convince the hubby,  that it was he who was wrong, not me! It is I, who deserves the apology and not vice versa.

Every time we argue…Won’t I be brought back to this situation?..to let me know, I had been at fault! 

“You had apologized too!”  I will be reminded by hubby dear!

Forgetfulness and our choice of memories make this an even complicated issue. You can understand how hard this can get. Especially between spouses.

Many times, as parents we err in our judgment of our kids in a situation..maybe due to the kids reputation.  I’ve learnt to apologize to my kids very gracefully in such cases. If I expect my kids to apologize in a situation..I need to learn to be honest myself, right?! Gone are the days when they were toddlers and when everything we said appeared right!

I hope this exercise will let me learn to apologize to Hubby dear with the same grace too! Apologies are very powerful. They end wars. They provide comfort when one is hurting. It helps in alleviating difficult situations when the apologizer takes responsibility of the wrong doing and lets the person suffering understand, “I know the hurt I have caused..I’m so sorry”. 

If I am able to imbibe in me, even a little bit of  that air, with which my kids come to me and hug me and say “I’m sorry Mama, I won’t do that again”, as they are leaving for school,  or, when they come to me and hug me “Good Night Mama”  in spite of the fact that I was just mad at them for some reason, I am going to be pleased with myself.. 

All my frustrations and anguish,  vanishes in that moment they apologize so sincerely to me! I hug them so tight and all the love babbles start to roll out of my mouth.  It makes me feel bad that I even got mad at them.

If apologizing is so relieving..so comforting to both..Shouldn’t I be able to do it to hubby dear and he to me, too?!

Confusions!

 

As a mom to 4 girls, I have the bigger chunk of parenting to do compared to Hubby dear.  He will always be their support, the trunk that will help them achieve confidence, realize the beauty of being daddy’s little girls. (I  so much believe that girls who experience loving fathers tend to choose loving partners later in life, rather than, abusive partners.)  But, they will always want to turn to the Mom in uncomfortable situations, when they are looking for answers.  I have always,maintained an open conversation with my kids, whatever the topic. I want them to feel free to talk anything with me,..whatever that's going on in their budding minds.  I never judge them when they share something that may be uncomfortable nor, do I conclude anything of their personalities from their confessions. I never let them feel nervous about anything they want to speak with me. 

This is one aspect of our relationship I hope, I can continue to strengthen with my girls as they grow. I hope that they will reach out to me for advice or suggestion on any issue that seems uncomfortable or confusing to them.  The other day, they had discussed “What is Inappropriate touching?” in their school. The school had educated them on this topic. They’ve been educated what an inappropriate touch feels like and in the end, they would need to trust themselves, that if something doesn’t feel right..then, it surely isn’t!!  That night, they let me know of this session. Each of them sounded so horrified and told me, they had not felt nice listening to all this. I felt like almost hugging them so tight..

Currently, they are in a phase in which they are having like a love hate relationship with the boys in their class.  To them, these boys are mostly annoying and have no artistic skills what so ever. That’s their current impression of the boys in their class.

They also find the boys sharing the same feeling of the girls too!!  All these contradictions gets them very confused when, they get any attention from a boy.  So, today…P and N came to me as I was dressing up.

All the three of us were watching ourselves in the mirror for sometime before P spoke

“Mama, Am I the prettiest girl in our family?” she asked, looking at herself admiringly and running her hand in her hair. Even as she admired herself in the mirror, there was so much confusion in her eyes.

“Yes, why do you ask?”, I asked without any hesitation. I had almost wanted to cut into her question, by saying that, even N is very pretty.

“There is a boy in my class who is always following me. He likes me and so he is always following me around”, she said.

“Maybe, because you are very wise P!”, N added very “wisely” from the side.

“What does wise mean, Mama?”, P asks me

“That you are smart, that you make good decisions, that you keep yourself informed, that you make informed choices, that you are thoughtful and careful”, I continued more about this word until I could sense the bulb of comprehension light up in her eyes.

“ I think it must be because you are beautiful  P”, N concluded almost as if all these qualities could never belong to P at all :-)

“Maybe, because you are a very friendly person..maybe, because you don’t have any “proud-ness” in you at all. Everybody likes friendly people, you know”, I added my two cents to this confusion.

“Yes, that may be true! Maybe, because I’m a very friendly person”, she decided and walked away.

Richa is 4 already!

Yesterday, my little one turned 4. Time flies is one lesson I am taught everyday..again and again and I still never learn! At RIcha’s school today, when one of her teacher said..”I remember seeing you pregnant when the triplets were here”.  I once again realized..”Wow! time really flies.”

This tiny tot ( to my eyes she’s always going to remain that, considering that she’ll surely grow up to be taller than I am! ) was so dejected when she got up this morning.  We all shouted out..”Happy Birthday to you Richa” and she didn’t get any excited. In fact, she wanted us to stop wishing her. She asked me to stop, when I had started to sing..”Baar Baar din yeh aaye..” 

When Pavan called her from work..She just replied with an indifferent “Thainks” and walked away from the phone. These words seemed to irk her.  It had got all her elder siblings puzzled.

“Why was she being so grumpy?!” they thought.

Why wasn’t she feeling all the excitement that we were able to feel for her?! They had talked about her turning 4 olds, just last night, and she was so excited about it..She had been jumping around…singing a song about Richa turning “4 olds”.

There was no excitement on her face now,..all we could see was a very sad face:-(  I soon understood that she had expected for a cake to be waiting for her when she got up in the morning. And there was none!  This must have felt so horrible..Her family is wishing her “Happy Birthday”  without the basics that a birthday entails…A CAKE!

As soon as I promised her that we will be getting one and cutting it as soon as Papa is home, I saw the first smile pop out of her face. Soon her Didi’s left for their school. Then, she asked me if we could go and buy the cake then itself.

“We need to take a cake to my class, Mama!” she said..acting out how she was going to carry the cake into her class and have everybody look at her in excitement and shout out “Happy Birthday Richa!!!”

I had actually talked to the teacher about having a class party 2 days later due to some work I had been busy with. But, there was no escaping now. She got ready for school quik-ca-ly. Without any delays, we set off to the super market to pick up a cake for Richa.  I had asked her..what cake she had wanted..princess, balloons..chocolate…vanilla!!!

She had answered ,  “Nevela Flower Cake”, for Vanilla Flower Cake.

As soon as I had parked the vehicle at the super market..she shouted out

“Mama, lets get a Dora cake!  “

“Mama, I want a Flower Cake!”

After picking up all the party basics..we went to the bakery.

She considering a few cakes..and settled for the Flower cake..even if it meant it was not “Nevella”.

She proudly announced to everybody she came across that it was her Birthday. With lots of excitement, she carried  the cake to be scanned.

 

As we approached her school, she exclaimed

“Mama, we made it to school!!”, just like Dora would say.

Proudly, she walked into her class holding her cake in her hand. This was a very special cake. It was baked specially for her and that’s why it tasted too good, she knew that!

The cake was decorated…and lit!!

 

The Birthday song was sung with such excitement like it was each of the kids own birthday! After she helped her teacher cut and split it, she distributed it!

 

Then, She sat to eat her own……

And ate it like never before!  I’ve always known her to love having a cake but never finish it!  Until yesterday, she has always, broken a cake..and made a mess of it, rather than eat it..But, this cake was a special one. It was meant to be eaten!  It was the tastiest one ever baked..and she did justice eating it like that!

   

She just loved it!  When we came back home..she wanted more!

 

and some more when her Didi’s came home from school. In the night, she had another tiny cake to cut when her Papa came back from work, and we all sang her the Happy B’day song again! But, she was way too satiated to taste this one :-(

She finished off her day with her favorite “Polka Dot” Pizza! 

Wishing her many many many more such Happy Happy Birthday’s to come.

“I love you so much my Puchka!” that’s what I call her sometimes.. referring to her soft bottoms :-)

Many times, when we cuddle up..I tell her..

“Richa..you are so sweet! So yummy! Can I eat you?”

She always replies so complacently.

“Mama, I am Richa..I am not foods!”

Then, she will offer her cheeks to me..so that I could take a little pretend bite of it :-)  Then she feel so proud that she was able to provide some sweetness in moma’s life.

As time flies so fast, my heart goes:

Why don’t you slow down a bit so mom can enjoy your innocence some more.

Why don’t you slow down some more..my child..so mom, can experience your undivided love for some more.

Why don’t you slow down a little more..my baby..so mom, can listen to your creative words..some more.

Why don’t you slow down a tiny bit more..my precious..so we can have some more of the afternoon tea parties in your room!

A couple of days back, when I had to go out for some work…she cried saying..

“I want Mama”

Pavan told her…

”Richa, I am here with you (a la Mein hoon naa!)..can you play with me? I love you too!”

He had tried to coax her..and she had replied so softly to him..lest she hurt him

“But Papa!! I need Mama…I don’t need you!”  :-)

That’s my darling Richa.

Genetic Material!

As a mom, I feel proud passing a lot of my traits onto the kids, My nose, or my eyes, my hair, my flare for music, even at art, and much more. But, there is one aspect, that I would rather my kids not be like me. The part where I can brood, for hours and days and weeks and months and years!.( Well! this is stretching it too much.)  The part where I don’t forgive and forget. The part where I would see myself as a victim in a situation that turned sour.  Now that I am grown up and aware of myself, it’s a constant work for me to get past it everyday. But, this is what grown ups do, right?

On the contrast, Pavan who sure is annoying at times, actually very annoying (I’m as annoying to him as he to me, I’m sure!), is the other way around. He cannot brood on things, almost to the point of being insensitive. He loves to forgive and forget. He loves to move on. He would want a closure to the argument with a hug to seal the topic. But, I would be like...”How ridiculous, You hurt my feelings  (not sure what that means after all these years of arguing with each other on the silliest of topics) how can you even expect me to hug you” , “You haven’t even apologized”  or “You haven’t even acknowledged your mistake..” or it could be like “ you made me look like a jerk in front of the kids” or it could be “you didn’t let me have the last word”.  Yes! very childish but, that’s what you earn for doing all the cleaning and washing and caring etc that is life.

Luckily for us, we complement each other in many other ways than any mentioned above. I’m a stickler for details , tiny details.  “Why did this move here?”, “Why did you mix the dark shirts with the light?”, “You can’t dump all the dishes like this into the dishwasher, you have to face them down, the spoons have to face inwards”. He is more of a big picture kind of guy. He is the kind of guy who prefers to get 90% of the work done with just 10% effort. and I’m the type who would put in 100% of effort to finish 40% and on rare occasions 60% of the work.

He’s an extrovert while I’m a perfect introvert. He’s the type who could crack a joke with a person he just met. I would need to know the person well enough to be that pally.  He so easily lets my mom know that, something irks him while I’m still figuring out after all these years, how to convey it to my mom so, I don’t offend her. He is very a optimistic person who would see the glass half full while I would worry about who drank that half glass of water since the glass wasn’t washed well.. These are all some qualities that I would rather my kids take after Pavan.

Now look at my kids. Of the four of my kids, one of them missed to take these positives' from her dad..or shall I say..I managed to pass my traits on to her.  And shouldn’t she be the easiest for me to handle, that, she is just like me! That, I understand why she is being so difficult in a situation. On the contrary…I would need to go back to college to learn parenting kids who are like myself. Since that's’ not an option..I’m taking each day at a time trying to get better at it. In the school counselor’s words “she sure is going to be your difficult kid”, seems such an un-caffeinated or mild way of putting what I’m going through. Pavan’s take: “Look at the positive..of the four kids who could have taken after you in that respect,…We have just one which is a pretty good ratio”.

Maybe someday, when we’ll be successful enough in rubbing of her dad’s anti brooding attitude onto her, I’ll be able to write a book on the topic..”Learned behavior can easily override genetic material” or how about this “How we did it?” Like the cake we ordered for the kids first birthday. It wasn’t marked for the kids..but, for the fact that we got through the first year of parenting…Looking forward to that day.

 

P.S. The blue cake was the triplets first birthday cake, while we got another cake (the yellow one) for Pavan and me..which said “We Did It”…This is my MiL and FiL holding the kids on their first birthday.

End of Vacation!!!

 

As our vacation is coming to an end…The kids are looking forward to getting back to their school. I’m looking forward to getting back to my routine. To check on my plants and trees back home. To thank my neighbors who have been keeping an eye on them. I hope that I’ll be left with some more bloom time before the winter puts its cold feet into my yard. We are all looking forward to getting back to our busy schedules again.

These past 2 months had at times been boring, with lots of adjustments to make , but mostly, had been relaxing, enriching and lots of fun for us. The kids are happy that they made this trip to India.

My mom too, enjoyed becoming a bigger family for two months.  She loves her lone and quite time. So, considering that, it had not been easy with 4 young kids screaming around, and making fleeting and unreasonable  demands for food and taste buds that were so difficult to please. We got to do a lot of travelling in and around the city, shopping, visiting cousins and grandparents.

The kids made new friends at their dance class who were all such great kids. We are  going to miss them and the teacher. He is one talented and devoted guy. We are also going to miss the 4 year old little girl who made sure she was well appreciated for her efforts at dancing in the class. You can spot that tiny tot in front of the class below.

 

Richa was telling me that she doesn’t want to go back to the “red house” (that’s what she calls her home), which I’m sure she will forget, when its time to leave.

The letters from the kids teachers has arrived. The triplets are excited to meet their new teachers. They are also anxious to know who their classmates are going to be this year.  Since, all the three are in the same grade, they have a special situation where they get to know and be friends with kids from three classes of the same grade.  Since Poojha and Neha are identical twins, many times, the kids of their class take a while in recognizing between them and call them with the other’s name. In this process, becoming friends.

As we are spending the last few days of our vacation with our family here in India, I feel that my kids have been very lucky to be loved and pampered and showered with blessings from their grandparents and other elders of our family. They have been able to meet many more cousins, first second and even further off from the family tree. This year they have realized that their family is much bigger than they ever had imagined and they are thrilled.

A little incident I remembered from our vacation. The other day we went to the restaurant along with the grandparents of the kids.  As all of us were eating, the triplets were busy walking around their grandma’s chair and trying to peek around her like they are trying to find something..After a while they came to their papa and asked him in his ears..”Where did Aaji hide her teeth?”  (My MIL, a strong old woman, wears false teeth which she removes, when its time for her to eat food. The kids find this very puzzling and constantly bug her asking her why she does that).