Practice makes perfect or bugs perfect?!

 

Doesn’t every parent want to think that their kid is the smartest kid on the planet?  I am guilty of that thought too! Actually, if you come to think .. aren’t the kids all really?! In their own different way…but, sure! Some of them so adventurous, new languages.., new ways of thinking, new approach, with no fear of being dismissed, no fear of failure, while some, so comfortable in their own zone,  but too good in what ever they do..None of these to me, mean that one is better than the other. It just means some of them are risk takers and some of them like to play it safe. 

Some kids, very good thinkers, able to make profound statements, think deep, and some who love to be the happy go lucky kind. Some very artistically inclined and some multilingual. Some very good at articulating their feelings while some who prefer to not express as much.  Some clumsy at social skills but so good at motor skills..and vice versa.

Some hate to be put in limelight but, would love to get that much more attention from their family nonetheless. Some accept the fact that they like to be in limelight and don’t miss any opportunity to snatch one. Some so curious and some like taking things the “bindas” way. In the end its all their personality and I don't have a dearth in dealing with different personalities here in our home.

Sure they are all girls but, with personalities so varied and yet in a way all of these personalities are in some kind of a celestial sync with the other.

As best as we parents think we need to take them along a path, we would work best only as guides. Sure, we have the advantage of being experienced in life but, haven’t we also built up prejudices along the way. I remember there were so many opinions that I had as a youngster, influenced by my upbringing or the society I lived in, today those opinions have changed, some vanished and some totally opposite from what I was then. My experiences have added value to my opinions. (In my opinion, that is!)

In my view, these young minds are best left to explore themselves as they grow. We parents, sure should be available to guide them if they get stuck.. We should be there to warn them of any impeding dangers with knowledge we've gained from our past experiences  (or,  bias we’ve formed due to these very experiences)…what ever the case, in the end it is the kids who have to make a choice..which dream to follow or how. 

Ah!! so rational..so logical, so right.. all this sounds..and yet, I find it so difficult to practice..too theoretical for me!  I’m sure by the time I finish this..you’re going to tell me…. your ways are so contrary to your opinion! Just like most of you parents, faced with this dilemma called, How to be the best parent?!

Even the tiniest tot has dreams. Aren’t you bombarded with the “I wish I could do …” ,  “I wish I could have….”, type-a things from you toddler or preschooler?!

Sure, Richa’s wishes change everyday but, this preschooler does have dreams too and to that end..she will try to achieve them in the best ways she knows.  The triplets now big kids..much aware than before, steer clear of making statements..like I want to be a ------, when I grow up.  P is too confused. She seems to find herself among the smart .. and yet she feels, if she continues in that direction, will it take a toll on her artistic skills? And would her pursuing her musical talent confuse the footing even more?!

“So, what should we do when we grow up,Mama, what should we become?!” , they have asked sometimes feeling too bewildered by this placement.

Suddenly, it dawned on them, this whole aspect of what they want to become when they grow up is much more complicated than they had anticipated. It had been so simple after graduating from pre-school, when N had wanted to be a cleaning lady when she grew up..and P had wanted to be a married woman while K wanted to a computer engineer. 

“It sure will be for you to decide when you grow up..the field of study, you desire the most”, we say (clearly setting expectations) but, with a lot of disclaimers, adding some more commotion to their already disturbed minds, that, I end up making resolutions..to stop obscuring the situation further.

Sometimes they get amazed by their own capabilities because they aren’t able to see a bigger picture, as we parents are able to.  N is amazed at the rate she’s writing paper after paper in the quest to get her article selected for some magazine.  The other day..she says..self complacently..

“Isn’t it amazing that I’m reading up all these books?!”, Modesty has no place in her room! But, her sisters bring her back to reality with what else they know. And with a Dad who’s such a voracious reader himself..she has no dearth of getting the best selections.

Sometimes as parents we need to make them aware of their talents to foster their confidence, and yet sometimes, its important to make them realize that being smart is not a means to an end.  It take 5% genius but 95% perseverance to achieve a goal.

Thus stressing on the importance of practice because, in the end what will get them to succeed is perseverance alone.  They get to hear the “P” word everyday…and it does bug them..because it takes away every free moment of their life, that they plan to have..but, they have no clue what they would do with those free moments if they had been left with it. 

In such a situation, if they don’t find themselves chatting with their friends on the internet, (Speaking of which…I’m amazed how or when, these kids pick up these tools so fast.. The other day I found N meddling with the “History” tab on the browser!!)  it wouldn’t take 10 minutes for them to get into an argument with each other, in that shrill escalated voice…

“N!!!! you are disturbing me when you ….”

“How would you feel..if I did it…”
”K!!!! did you listen to me .. when I complained last?!!!!”

A busy schedule for them saves them from all these squabbles and a voice tired Mom from shouting across the Palle hallways..

“Now…Cut it out!!! “  “You have 5 secs to stop that ruckus..!”

Not that I have a plan for after the 5 secs, that would be better than shouting..but, I don’t shy from using this tool anyways..

As much as I thought that we were overdoing this “practice” thing with our kids, the other day at school .. after their musical recital at the winter concert…their school Principal made a statement that made me think..they’re being given these lectures at school too!

She referred to this eminent Psychologist and Scholar  Anders Ericsson’s 10000 Hour Rule that says..It takes approximately 10000 hours of deliberate practice to master a skill, to becoming an expert at a skill.   Which means that it would take 10 years of practicing 3 hours a day to become a master in your subject.

The kids have been made aware of the importance of practice.  The triplets feel that they master the Ragas so easily they don’t need to sit down to practice for even 2, half hour sessions a week.  Their Dad’s usual statement to the kids..

“You know kidos, I don’t have the talent to produce a note in the way its supposed to be heard..but, with determination I can make progress. If I had even a fraction of your talent..I would’ve been a rock star by now!” ,

That, he’s made this statement so many times,  it won’t surprise me if  the kids are just going to snap back “100th time Papa!”, the next time he utters it..

And I don’t miss any opportunity to emphasize this myself. About,  the importance of practicing. Exercising the voice muscle! that’s what I call it!

“Its all muscle memory that’s going to help you make all the gyrations in the voice, that you see your Guru do.. Same thing with the instruments too. “ If your fingers have to get adept at moving smoothly..”P” is the key, I try to enforce.

It was like this Principal had spoken my mind and provided enough support to hammer this thought even more into my kids. She also set the ground for me to perfectly answer their question of

“What do we do when we grow up?!”

For something you genuinely enjoy doing for its own sake, stick with it, keep learning more about it, and after a decade or so, you can't help but get good at it and feel proud of yourself.

Talent is just the 95% thing that does it for somebody, its that 5% part, where you struggle to put in time and effort into practice, what people call perseverance that would take you that extra mile….is my constant mantra to my kids, be it academics or talent!  I plan to stick to this, until they will form a Union among themselves to boycott me if I repeated that again!

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.

Another year!

 

Some birthdays are meant to make you feel another year older and some are meant to make you feel loved…Yesterday’s was one that made me feel loved..Love showered through the wishes from my parent in-laws, my mom, my family, my friends .. and more friends on my Facebook. 

The kids came down early to wish me…with their cards!! I wondered what they would’ve created this time!

N’s creation was so cute. She had made like a cut out..of 3 women…each of them dressed different. One in saree, one in pants and the third in an Indian chudi!  The 3 forms of her mom she sees around everyday! That was so thoughtful..

Poo was so impressed with her own card.  She loves drama!! As usual she had lots of mushy things to tell me…in her own dramatic way! She said..

“WOW mama! doesn’t my card look like a book!”

And K, the cutie that she is…created a cute card for me..explaining what mama meant to her and how that dress fits me perfectly!  What more can a mom ask!

Until a few years ago..this was all I would have asked for!! When my family from India called me on my b’day, I had felt elated…I felt blessed. I felt wished.  I felt good, they remembered me this day, even though I didn’t even bother to remember their’ s. 

Today, that was surely necessary, but, was it sufficient?!!

Today, in this age of social networking where I’m connected with people right from the days when I took my first step.   Ok! must be an exaggerated version of being connected..but, you get the point!

Following all these connections I’d made from being in school till now, where,  I’m now, mostly in touch with the mom’s whose children go to the same school and pre-school as my kids…

How is it possible to not be wished by all these friends of mine? 

Your diaper buddies you shared the crèche with, your school friends, college friends…encompassing all those schools/universities that you’ve been to, and  a lot more people that you’ve met travelling through your life..

All of them are there to wish you well today!  Isn’t that the best cake one can have?!  I was lucky enough to be wished by many of you’ll. 

Last month, it was Hubby’s b’day and he got a mere 17+ wishes on his Facebook page… I had told him..

“What  Hubby, only 17 people thought it worth to wish you?!”

Hubby dear, the optimist he is, saw a lot of positive in it.. He replied

“Considering I hardly post anything, that, I’d not wished anybody yet…, Isn’t that great?!”

So, it all boiled down to a popularity contest here between the Palle spouses…Who is more popular?! Of course…I won the race, hands down!

Thanks for that my Facebook friends.  Every wish was cherished like there wasn’t another…for me.  Like I had said before…each of them..helped me add points into my Karma bank.

Remember posting birthday wishes on your friend’s Facebook wall?.. I ‘ve posted on my friend’s walls too.  Did you have to struggle for the right words? Thought hard, what words would that be, that would put a one in a million smile on your friends face? Trust me, I did too!! I’m sure my friends did too!

I remember struggling to find the right words sometimes,  maybe because there were so many messages on my friend’s wall…and I wanted mine to stand out!! Or, maybe I’ve not known the person for a long time and you know, people change…completely in that much time!

I know, I have!!

The friends who knew me as a kid, or even in my teens, would claim hands down, that I was a girl of few words, always lost in my thoughts and a smile sometimes. And then, Hubby dear happened.   Just as I was realizing that if I don’t start talking now,  I’ll have to spend all my life just listening..the kids happened,  the mommy thing rubbed off on me..and the words started to pour out, first, as a trickle and then, profusely!!  

So, had surely managed to get the appropriate words for a difficult situation too.

Other times, wishing some others, had been so spontaneous for me.  Some recent incident with them, or a recent remark that wasn’t replied to, provides fodder to  write a nice message. In the simplest of words, honesty does show out. I’ve seen the most loving, moving, honest but, simple messages from my friends on Facebook.

And then, there were times, I could just post a “Happy Birthday xyz!” and I felt like I did good! 

Do you remember the ring of your name, as your friend would call out to you.  The accent! Everyone has a way of talking, of calling you, right?!

Sometimes…I can feel like the person is right beside me and almost hear the voice in my ear.  How my name sounds when they would say, “Happy Birthday Gayatri!”.  I could hear that distinctly! 

And, they would have written nothing more than just that,  “Happy Birthday Gayatri!” ..but, it does magic..the voice itself reaches your ears.

I also received a few, that said…

“Happy Birthday”.

I can understand that!  You don’t feel as close to the person, yet, you do want to convey to them, that, the b’day was acknowledged and want to blow some wishes their way.

Most times, I remember, I’ve ordered around, in guise of wishing…I’d written stuff like..

“Have a blast Rupa!”,  “Have a great one Jaya!”

“Have  a good day Sugu!!”

Meaning to let them know..I’m not going to be jealous of you today..if you had the finest moments that I’d been yearning to have in a long long time! Go ahead…Enjoy them without any guilt!

I received a couple of wishes like that too!

Then I felt, I had a new responsibility now!! I couldn’t let my friends down, they had asked me to have fun! What would I write them back…That my day sucked!!

I had to really make it right. I had to make it great!!  As I thought of how, I could do that,  I found that I had made my way to the gym.  The yoga instructor led us through these routines, that, when I came out of the class..along with a few aches and pains.. it was time to go for the swim…

Ahhhahh!! That was the moment, those thoughts invaded me..those thoughts, you know.. That make you take a hike from the gym…

“Its your birthday Mama!!” I could hear the kids say.

“Its your birthday Gayatri!”, I could hear Hubby dear say.

“Have a great day Gayatri!”  the message said..

I mean..Its my birthday!!…

“Maybe, I can skip the swim today…Its so cold anyways…”, I thought.

Like the water in the pool was exposed to that rainy weather…But, who cares for all those facts..I was trying to make my way out..of the gym, right?!

While these thought were taking control of me, I found myself wrapped in the suit..I remembered the scale from that morning…

“I had added 3 more pounds !!! “

Still ready to run out the next moment..I walked towards the pool and lo!! there was a lane that was free!  All for myself..I didn’t need to share the lane with anybody today!  A birthday gift! Especially, if it was the corner one!

Ok! Maybe I’ll just finish this with 35 laps today, I thought..and took that dive into that cold water..

I came out after an hour completing my whole routine like I always did…I was able to pick Richa up from her school in time and had just reached home, the kids came home…ready with instructions for the back to school night

The school had done its share of letting me

“Have a great day!”

Right! That’s what the order/wish was all about!  Wasn’t it?!  It didn’t mention the evening…

People! Friends! next time when you wish for somebody, make sure you take the evening/night into consideration too…The gods do listen!!  They do eavesdrop on all of these wishes…even if they are electronic!! Which ever network protocol! How ever secure!

Right. I didn’t get to go out on any dinner or even sit down with Hubby dear to share some moments together, with a cup of tea that evening.   

No Complaints!!

Hubby dear reached home just in time so I could hop into the vehicle to run off to the back to school night. Oh Boy! was that fun or exercise?! Juggling through 3 classes…The school seems to have worked really hard, making sure all the three kids are placed in classes in the three corners of the school.

I came back to a quite home, everybody fed, done with their showers

Wow! Wasn’t that great!!!

Thanks so much for all your kind wishes.

With Love

Gayatri!

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”!!

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!!

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.

Tomorrow, I’m the Mommy

Today, Richa was telling me..”Mama, tomorrow I’m going to be the Mommy”.

“I will give Neha Didi(sister) Snanam (bath)!”

“I will open her dress like this”, putting her hands up straight to show me how Neha opens her dress, when she gives her a bath. My triplets , maybe 8 years old, but, they are Richa’s second Mommy. 

They are the ones she turns to, when I am upset with her or she with me. When she is not allowed to get her way. Like, when she wants to watch TV for long hours or she is trying to avoid eating her food, when she refuses to clean up the mess she creates, and many other things a 3 year wants to do but isn’t allowed to. She thinks, that turning to her Didi(s) (word for elder sisters in Hindi) will resolve her problem. Either they will fix it for her, or they will be able to override my decision.

The other day, she sets up a contraption with a stool on top of a chair. This helped her reach a bunch of silly bands that the triplet girls had hidden from her.  She had been eying them for long. Coming to the silly bands..what’s with these things called ‘silly bands’. The kids in schools have gone so crazy about it. Its become a big rage now. Even the pediatrician’s office and their dentist’s office have them.

“Only one per kid” The sign says.

I used to see Neha come from school always with new bands on her wrist. On asking her what they were, she would say that her friends at school had given it to her. Soon all the triplets had them and they had made quite some collection at home.

I would hear the triplets talk about whose mom is buying who, these bands. Clearly, I was not among them. Just as I had started to feel this getting to my nerve..I get this letter from the kids teacher,banning it from the class. No student would be allowed to wear them at school, it said. I was so happy about it.

I hoped that this would be the end of these harmless looking silly bands. They had hidden these silly bands in a container on the top of a self.  I didn’t know she had known this. Then, that morning..after her Didi(s) left for school, I see her with about 20 bands on her wrist. I had guessed she had climbed up that ladder she had created..so dangerous it looked!! Lucky that she didn’t fall.  I tried to convince her saying that this is not good for her.

As I tried to remove them..it appeared difficult to come off, a perfect situation to explain to her

“Richa, look it will make your hand red..this is so dangerous.” , I said

At this point she looked a little scared and convinced that maybe this women, the one that calls herself her mom, is right.

Then as soon as I was able to remove them she realized the trick.

She insisted that she needs the princess band, and started looking for them in that lot.

“I want the red princess band”, she said, looking for that shape among the bands.

“I have to show it to Ms.G. “, she says

“Ms G will not allow that Richa”, I said

“Remember Mama, we showed the unicorn silly band yesterday”, she said

“That was yesterday, today she is not going to like it. It is dangerous.”, I tried to convince her.

“But, Neha said it is OK”, she said

‘You are not giving me one , you are not giving me many, you are not giving me any, and I want my bands”, she cried getting loud. (Wow!  she’s speaking all this..I thought)

“I like Neha, she is tall, she is the Mommy”, she continued.

“She is tall?!!”, I looked puzzled. Anything to have a convenient Mommy, uh!

“Yes, she is tall and she is my Mommy. I am mad of you”…she continued.

“Ok then, I cannot give you your toasty bread since I am not the Mommy and you are refusing to brush your teeth”..I said, hoping she would fall for the threat. (She had already asked for toasty bread, her favorite food recently)..

“Then,..I will brush my teeth”, she agreed letting me brush her teeth.

That was the end of needing Neha Mommy for the day.

Costumes!

That Halloween is approaching, I realized, I would have to buy new costumes for the kids this year. Richa is not at an age where she understands the difference between buying a new costume versus wearing something that her sisters had already used earlier. Her choice is clear, it needs to be a princesses costume of which luckily, we have so many, with 3 of them already gone through that phase. I’m sure she will be content with any one of the princess costume we have at home. But, the triplets would need new dress ups this year.

They have grown taller and I’m sure they wouldn’t agree to dress in costumes they had already tried earlier, even if it fit.  Its been years since we have found time to go out shopping for dress wear. So, scanning the internet, I first asked Neha to help me choose a costume for her and as usual I had a few selected depending on her choice from the previous years. It had been mostly pink, and mostly princess, fairies and sweet looking costumes.  But, this year, when she looked at these selections ..

“I’m not a baby, Mama”, she told me.

I was surprised, almost shocked to hear that. My girl, to whom, even at the age of 2, the dreamy look of the costume had been so important,  who had pointed to the evening gowns and other prom dresses that she had seen at the Mall,  especially, the strapless ones, and had let us know that she loves and wants to be dressed like that, is telling me that, her taste for costumes is not the same anymore.  In all these years, their costumes had varied from Disney princesses,belles, brides, angels to dancers, Last year, the wildest she had dressed was a band on her head representing an angel and a devil.

 

 

Hearing that from her now … “I’m not a baby, Mama” still ringing in my ears,  It almost felt like we have hit a milestone with regards to my triplets (keeping in mind her taste reflects the taste of the other 2 girls too). 

“I want some thing scary, Mama”, she said

Another shock. She was asking for something that she had detested to dress in until now.  I had seen a lot of kids dress up as witches and other scary things when I had taken my kids on their trick or treat trips all these years and, I used to wonder if my kids would ever choose dresses like those. They had been so obsessed with pretty looking ones.

So, I showed her some of the witch costumes. And, she retorted immediately saying

“I don’t like witch costumes mom, I want scary looking ones, but not witch ones”

Scary to her doesn’t mean witch?!…but aren’t witch costumes scary. There were some cool costumes this year, like the bumble bee or the lady bug ones. She immediately discounted those choices, especially the lady bug costume. Too childish!!  They had looked cute and chic to me. But, I don’t belong to this generation so, I don’t even trust my own selections. In the end, she chose this costume.

 

And I convinced Poojha to wear this

Kavya is still vacillating between being a witch and 2 faced.

Later, Neha was talking about an exercise that they had done in her class. Her teacher had asked the kids to design or describe the costume that the kids would like to wear this Halloween and she would help in sending these requests to a Halloween costume designer. I asked her what she had chosen. …Sadly, she had missed that class since we had been away that day. So, what were the choices of her classmates then! Some of them are listed below.

• Corpse Bride
• Zombie Michael Jackson
• Dork costume with bloody face
• Zombie rock star
• Witch ballerina

Oh my! what imaginations! It was obvious….why she had changed her choice of her costume to scary.

Creative or Wild!!

The girls had been to a play date like situation last weekend..They’ve been practicing for a play in our community. When the kids get together in one of the residents place, the place looks more like a venue for a play date than, a place, where, serious stuff is happening. Kids were everywhere..on the sofa’s, chaise, tables, playrooms, upstairs and downstairs, inside except outside.  I’m sure that my friend would have had her work set for the evening fixing her home back to its original state since, she’s a stickler for neatness. So, after one such session, the kids came home with lots of creative energy and sometimes this can go wild (which could have been harnessed for the practice session, but for the director mom, who thinks that she is being very hard on the kids).

Their enthusiasm for the play and learning their dialogues can be seen from this picture below…Everybody seems either engrossed in their script, or, watching the other kids perform their part. 

These 4 kids have the most important part of the play and one can see they are serious about it. Its going to be an amazing experience for the kids and will surely play a part in fueling more of such creative activities in the future. Like it did to my triplets, who came home with this weird energy. They needed to expend it..They wanted to go cycling which I let them. The day was so beautiful. The geese were cawing..as usual, flying to the nearby pond.

But, it got boring, soon enough. Then,  they realized that the helmets are more than mere helmets..It could be used as shields for a fist fencing game…

And while the other 2 siblings were engaged in theirs, one of them becomes the Laughing Shiva umpiring over them. It can only be left to imagination, what it would be like, to create a parody, or a little comic mime like thing where, we have mortals fighting like this and Shiva, the destructor and creator of the cosmos, would be watching them mortals fighting and laughing over them,thinking, how these mortals make his work easy for him,changing the outcomes between the opponents at the flip of his finger..That’s some weird imagination there.

Have heard of a ‘Laughing Man’, or ‘Dancing Shiva’, but, first experience with a ‘Laughing Shiva’. This Shiva needs to straighten his arms further..

Then..after a series of crazy poses…they hit the jackpot, for the real use of the helmet..atleast it felt so, for that moment. It provides instant biceps!!!  How cool!  N, shouting..

“I…AM….THE….POWER”

 

So, the trio grew instant biceps at lightning speed.

But, P wanted to drive this to another level. She wanted an armor too…but, it turned out to provide her with an instant pregnant belly… So, here we have a little girl who grew a pregnant belly and biceps instantly using hers’ and her sisters’ helmets…WILD WILD P

 

 

But, then she got an  even wilder idea..Now she wanted boobs!! And what sized..HELMET sized ones! so, Neha, the dresser helped P get instant boobs, the biggest I ever seen on this universe!

Soon, they realized, that its not convenient…wisdom had set in, maybe just for a second but then, they went even wild…They decided to build helmet butts. So, N the dresser started on the task of building instant butts for P using the available helmets.

 

Here is the results..of that..weird makeover.

They also got a chance to pat her instant fat ass.

After this extravaganza of their creative abilities, they decided to call it a day! My crazy trio…provide so much fodder for fun at the Palle home. Life would have been so dull without all these crazy days.

Mommies and Babies!! ( Part 3)

On the fourth day I left the hospital..and I didn’t feel good about it.  Physically, there was no more reason for me to stay there, but I had wanted to be there. That way, I could be close to my babies. I had to be literally kicked out. After my stroller was pushed downstairs and as I waited for Pavan, in the lobby, there were many other mom’s being discharged, and they had their baby in their arms. .Just felt horrible going home like this.

Then, when I reached home, my mom had cooked my favorite item for me..Rasam with plain rice ! It was so good, no spices..very invigorating. The nurses at the NICU gave me lots of instructions on the way I should be packaging the breast milk that I would be shipping to the hospital from the next day. They had given me a stock of those bottles and I was supposed to mark the time when expressed, the name of the child and the amount of milk in each bottle, clearly.  It had gone up to around 10-14 ounces now.  Baby steps for me there…. The next day, all of us were so eager to go back to see the babies. We packed up their meals and got ready for that hour and half drive to the hospital.

The babies had already been shifted to another room, as they were stable now.  That was the first time we were going to carry our babies. They were sleeping as usual. The nurses had swaddled the babies in more than one blanket to make a bundle big enough for us to carry.. P was on her tummy and she just kept moving up and up and every five-10 minutes the nurse had to pull her back to the center of the incubator. Again she would start moving towards the wall. It was so cute!

 

While I was at the hospital, Pavan grew a gotti. When I saw him this, it reminded me of the movie “9 Months”.      Good movie to watch when having a baby, especially for first time dad’s :-)                      

N was swaddled and given to us. The look on her face, even at 2 months premature, was soo mischievous.   

And my Dad and Mom were already a fan of K. She  was awake, and seemed very aware of all the movements around her and would try to move her eyes towards the sounds. My dad’s eye sight was so weak, so, he would always bend over almost nose to nose to look at the babies. 

 

Look at the size of my hand compared to K’s size. My hand was more than half the size of her body.

How could I take care of such delicate things. What if I didn’t hold them tight enough or what if I held them too tight? I had been so nervous. The nurses asked me..what I was eating. They advised me to not eat cabbage, cauliflower, garlic and of course lentils that were gassy, to help with healing of the stitches. In a day or two, I saw bloody watery discharge coming from my stitches. I had to go back to the hospital. It had been a difficult time for me. I came down with mastitis, UTI among the other problems post surgery that everyone faces. But, since the babies were not home, it got easy on me to handle myself. 

My mom was taking care of my home for me.  It had been so nice to have her with me when I was the weakest. I could be as difficult as can be and would be confident that she would care for me without minding it. When she had had me, being a working woman and with nobody to enlighten her of the importance of breast feeding during her first pregnancy, she had weaned me so early. Times had been difficult for her then, having to juggle between work and home without help. Also, in those days, if one remembers the formula advertisements, the babies shown were so chubby that, most people preferred to feed formula to babies.  When I used to ask her for info, she would brush me off saying…go “Google” it. Now that I knew how important breast milk was for the immune system of a new born, it got all the more important for these preemie babies to feed on breast milk.

The nurses had encouraged me to drink more milk. Their words:

“If you don’t replenish the calcium in your body,  the body will pull that calcium in your breast milk from your bones.”

I was also prescribed calcium supplements. After a couple of days, P was ready to suck the milk from a bottle. The food pipe that went through her nose into her tummy was still kept just incase she wasn’t able to suck the milk. This pipe was changed everyday, I think. And sometimes it was switched to the mouth if it had caused soreness in the nose. Now we got a chance to feed her at least one feed in a day.  Soon N and K too joined her. I was advised to not even try to latch them on to me. Being pre-mature, the focus was on conserving their energy. They needed to gain weight.

Soon, it was 3 weeks and P was ready to come home. We were so excited. We had been pestering the neonatologist that week, trying to find out, which day she would let P come home. She was sent home as soon as her weight touched 4 pounds. The  next week, the doctor said, that we could take N home in another week. It had been such a commotion at home, since P came home.  We had hardly gotten used to this change and N was going be home soon!! Now, we got nervous. We told the doctor, we weren’t in such a hurry, it was ok if N had to be in the hospital for another day or two.  But, N did come home the next week as soon as her weight had touched 4 pounds and we got used to taking care of 2 babies at home.  One or two babies didn’t matter, the trick was to do everything at the same time.

The most difficult part was now. Having K at the hospital and having 2 babies at home. The drive to and back took a minimum of 4 hours since we had chosen to given birth to the babies in a hospital that specializes in multiple births and NICU was well equipped to handle pre-mature babies. I had started driving and with Pavan back at work, I was shuttling between the hospital and the 2 babies at home. It had taken a long time for K to come home. But, one fine day she was given the green to be taken home.

Now the whole family was home. The babies came home so well trained. We were told to feed the babies together and put them to sleep together.  We kept up with that discipline, on their part the babies were good and followed the routine so well.

I had scanned the internet for information on how to increase the milk. The babies were growing and the supply had to increase too. I found that Methi (Fenugreek) helped in increasing the milk supply and Dill leaves were very good for the digestive system of the babies. In fact, its one of the main ingredients of the gripe water. That would be my food for the next year. I was literally a cow, right! Eating leaves for food and feeding the babies and did nothing else.  Methi really boosted my milk supply. I had been expressing every 2 1/2-3 hours , 24 x 7, which made 8-9 sittings everyday, between trying to sneak in some sleep. At one point I was expressing more than 50 ounces of milk per day.

I’m sure I lost a lot of calcium from my bones during this period. But, the funda here was that the more one expressed, the more milk the body produced. It doesn’t depend no the size of your breast. This had been my routine for the whole year. Since they were pre-mature babies, putting on weight had also been a priority for the babies so, a part of the babies diet was a higher calorie formula specially made for pre-mature babies. The way I managed their feed was, during the day, they fed only on breast milk and during the nights, they were given formula.  Also, because, I kept up with the Dill Leaves diet, I never had to deal with colicky babies.

(To be continued).

Mommies and Babies!! (Part 2)

Once my babies were wheeled away to the NICU, it had taken quite some time to stitch me back. With all that extra skin, I’m really not sure how they had closed me up, I know they didn’t care to make it look aesthetically good. I spent the night recovering from the surgery.  That night felt good, since I was properly drugged not to feel any pain.  Next morning, we met an Indian intern at the hospital.  She was an American Born Confused Desi ( no more confused as we were, as new parents) with a very pleasant personality.  Her name was something like “Vashita”, I think. I remember this, because she had mentioned how her name had been made fun off.

“Wha” a “Shit”

She spent quite some time with us deciphering the names that we had chosen for our babies, their sounds and the possibilities of mispronouncing them,   There were sets of similar sounding names or similar meaning names. After going through all of them, we gave up on anything similar for the girls. As it is, they have the same birth date to share which was enough for now. 

As the morphine started to wear off, I came to realize the pain waiting for me. Everything was swelling and the catheter had to come off so I could start moving. None of this was happening. I wasn’t able to stand and when helped to the bathroom, I wasn’t able to pee.  When my bladder could hold no more, the catheter had to be put back in. Wore compression garments on my legs to stop them from swelling further. Eventually, I was able to get rid of the catheter, and the swelling started to decrease, I realized that, all that was left of my  body, was just some flesh and bones. No muscles on my legs or hands.  The bed rest had made me weak. The belly felt like a hard rock. Some people who had come to see us remarked insensitively..

“You still look pregnant!!”   Maybe this is like food for such people…Talking like this. Anyways..I put it behind me.

I insisted on being taken to see my babies in the NICU. My tummy felt like a heavy rock ( I know, I’m repeating it so many times, maybe there’s going to be a comment on,how many times I repeated this). So hard and so heavy. Remember a version of the 3 little pigs story or similar, where the wolf’s tummy is cut open by the clever character, the baby sheep’s (or the 2 pigs) are freed and stones put back and the tummy is sewed back.. Yeah, same thing happened to me too!…looked like the doctor’s freed up my babies, then put back rocks inside and sewed it up.

I think I was given some drug that the uterus continued to contract.  I wasn’t able to get my back straight.  One thing I missed doing after the delivery,  was, having my tummy tied with a binder. The binder they gave at this hospital was such a misfit and not efficient enough, or maybe, that hard rock like pot on my belly was the weird part. I did use a binder after the second delivery and I did feel the help.  Doing this goes a long way in helping to reduce your tummy back to its size. I would recommend it 1000% (if that made any math sense) to all the new moms. Most of the times, the uterus takes a long time to contract back to its size (sometimes, may not even come back fully, like in mine). With c-sections, this gets harder to do. Looking back, I wish I had just endured all that pain, and had my tummy tied up like that. But, I wonder if it would have mattered in my case, my tummy stayed the rock, for a long time…feels like it took years to soften( maybe not, but it does feel like that).

I reached the NICU, and was surprised at how noisy and busy the place was.  The beep beeps, the oxygen pipes hissing sounds, the babies placed inside bubbles, the face masks on the babies. Some of them were 26 weeks born. Feels like repeating the cliché, Medicine has come a long way. ( I remember, during our visits to the NICU of the coming weeks, there was a baby that had been in the hospital for more than 4 months, born at 24 weeks, about to leave the hospital soon, hale and healthy).  Another case, we came across at the hospital was of a mom, who had triplets her first delivery (3 boys) and she had just delivered triplets again (2 boys and a girl!!). Wow! it was so amazing to watch her 3-4 year old triplet boys. I couldn’t believe that PNK would ever be as big as those boys.  This would be the first time, I would be looking at my babies, so every time I passed by a baby, I would ask..could this be P or N or K..Finally, I saw P. OMG!!   so cute!. I wanted to see N and K . They were placed a little away. And it felt so nice. It still hadn’t sunk into me. “I am their mommy!” I was telling that to myself so many times trying to get myself out of fantasy land.

Both P and N were sleeping, They were breathing without the oxygen masks.

There was a nurse at K’s. She was only skin and bones. Her cry felt like it was coming from some place far away..She was enveloped in so much stuff…OMG! after a couple of minutes..I just fainted..

When I came back, this was as straight as I could stand to watch Kauvya.

In the mean time, I had been trying to express milk for sometime now. I was sore, cried and then tried again..then cried. I didn’t want to give up. I didn’t expect all this. Nobody had prepared me for all this. I wasn’t able to attend any Lamaze classes or post child birth issues if any. I hadn’t visited the Delivery Room or the NICU before I came to the hospital a week ago.  This was all foreign. Nobody had let me in on the wisdom, that it would take a few days for all things to settle and start. I had to go to the bathroom and I remember clicking on the button for help so many times. My husband couldn’t be with me, the first 2 nights, since he was the chauffer to my parents. He decided to stay at the hospital the 3rd and 4th nights, but, had been of less help too. Once Pavan falls asleep, its very hard to wake him up. 

(To be continued)

Mommies and Babies!! (Part 1)

Recently, in the circle of my friends and family, a few are either pregnant or have just given birth to babies.  There’s so much excitement about the new babies and babies who are waiting to come out.  We had just visited Pavan’s cousin’s last week. They had a baby girl a month ago. Her name is Aarnavi. It had felt so good holding the baby…OMG!!

As I held the baby, I was surrounded by my kids..and all of them wanted a share in carrying her around like she was a doll.  When my triplets were born, my sister’s daughter, Isha, was about 9-10 month old, she was the one  who used to treat the triplets like her baby dolls. Then, when Richa was born, the triplets joined that club, of wanting real living baby dolls. Now Richa too has joined this club.

 

We had taken all the stuff that I had collected over the years for the triplets and Richa to give it to them to use for their little baby. Things that I didnt’ think I could part with, things that I had put a lot of thought and effort in choosing, hope they will be able to smell the love in them.

Looking at this baby and the excitement in the family, reminded me of my own pregnancy.  It reminded me of all the struggles in the pregnancy that my friend and co-sis must be going through right now. Reminded me of the state of body and mind, of the new mom, those sleep deprived nights, that another co-sister of mine, is going through right now. This blog’s idea is what followed. I also realized, that I haven’t recorded my pregnancy woes and how I had brought up my triplets, their first year either. This was an opportunity.

Maybe my experiences, although not normal, could help the “new moms” and “mom’s to be”.  Maybe, the “new dad’s” could understand the state of these “new moms” reading this blog, (not that there isn’t enough material on the web).  I can understand the effort it takes on the Dad’s part, in this situation, trying to bear with a women who has suddenly turned into a different being, but, nothing compares to what the women goes through to have the baby and what follows after that.

Maybe I’m biased, maybe because, men don’t keep those babies in their tummies for 40 weeks and they don’t have to bear the brunt of these pregnancies on their bodies, that they could keep their firm abs and still be a Dad, that their hormones don’t take the hit. Physically and mentally, there’s a lot that is happening to the Mom and no amount of support feels less to a women giving birth. I was fortunate that my husband understood some of this and took care of me when I needed it. And, if he failed during the first, he did make up for it during the second pregnancy.

It had taken all of 16 weeks of morning sickness to deal with. I wasn’t able to eat anything. Not that I puked my way through those weeks, but, I always felt like I would. “This would be it”, I had always felt.

My parents and friends performing the seemantham ceremony, also know as Godh Bharai  (baby shower) during the 5th month of my pregnancy.

 

This is me at 16 weeks of pregnancy with the triplets.   

At 20 weeks of my pregnancy, I looked almost full term. It was also around this time, that I started to feel hungry too. That was the week I was asked to take off from work to get on bed rest by the doctors.  My belly had grown so big that I couldn’t stand at the kitchen counter. If I had to reach for the faucet or a vessel on the stove I had to bend forward awkwardly, that my back hurt and belly hurt getting bumped against the counter constantly. The weight from the belly downwards felt so enormous. The only movements I made, were towards the kitchen downstairs, the bathroom and to the doctors office. Even, the trips to the kitchen became less as I continued to grow. 

Pavan would make sure that I had my food for the day around me, and I made sure, I had my food for thought for the day around me. I also spent a lot of time watching the episodes on TV of couples having multiples. I would cry with them, I would worry with them, I almost gave birth to their babies.

Hobbes made sure he troubled me enough for the day too. He would stand at the window beside my bed and bark at the squirrels outside, THE WHOLE DAY!!. He didn’t get tired barking. That little 7 pound thing..so much energy! (If I only could show half that determination at fitness) All my attempts at getting him to be quite didn’t matter. He just knew,

“This fat ass is not going to move, and even if she does, I can easily get away”,  he had thought.

Since I couldn’t eat much being a vegetarian, the nutritionist called almost every other day, to suggest what food I could eat which had the highest concentration of protein even if I detested it.

This was my first pregnancy and we didn’t know any better. In the quest to get the best nutrition into me, Pavan would try out weird combinations of food. SO WEIRD! I don’t even know what he used.  All I can remember of the pregnancy is the craving for decent tasty Indian homemade food, but no tasty food around!. There were a few times that I went ahead and made Rajma(Kidney Beans) and Maa Ki Daal (black gram) and those were the only times I enjoyed having food.

I remember, once Pavan had made Upma  with cottage cheese. He was trying to get as many grams of protein into that meal of mine, and he had thought that I wouldn’t be able to figure it out. That,  I would mistake it for Dahi.  That was the last straw…I had gotten so mad on that day..I had shouted so much, I had cried, I had bawled that I felt my head reel. Poor thing, he didn’t care the food didn’t taste good, as long as it had the protein content.

There was another thing peculiar about Pavan. He used to evade touching my belly, or touch lightly or take his hand away like the baby would just pop out of the belly and bite him with its toothless jaws.  Maybe it scared him, maybe that whole big stretched belly looked too disgusting, I’m really not sure.. I had wanted to show him the babies moving and would force his hand on my belly but, instead of feeling that moment with him, all I could feel was, his urge to pull away his hand.   His version, that he was very scared of hurting me…Maybe that’s why I insisted on this photograph of him touching my belly. Trust me, his hand is as light as it could be, so I don’t feel it. Like my skin could feel anything, being so stretched!!

How can I forget that contraction monitoring exercise that I had to do everyday! Those bands have caused as much damage to my skin as much as the pregnancy itself to my body.

Yeah! not very good memories from my first pregnancy. But, by the time my parents arrived at around 29-30 weeks, I was totally stretched. There was no room for the tummy to grow (Amazing, to see how everything stretches). Well, atleast it appeared so!

And this was the only dress that fit and looked good for picture time. No wonder all the pics are in the same dress! That was my seat and bed for almost 2 weeks before I had to be taken to the hospital.

Soon, that innocent cold and cough took over me. Every cough and sneeze felt like my belly is going to tear open.   And I wasn’t able to lie down. Lying on my back was out of question. If I lay to my sides..I could feel the babies sliding towards each other..that feeling itself was enough to make me sit up immediately..

I almost had a balloon about 3-4 times the size of the biggest pumpkin, in front of my belly. The way I managed the doctor visits was carry my belly around with my hands. No cough suspension was able to help me..not sudafed, not benedryl, not anything. The doctors advised most OTC..and when nothing worked,  I was brought to the hospital since my contractions had increased with this cough. A blood test revealed that my platelet count had gone down. My body would not be able to stop bleeding during the surgery, if it continued to go down anymore. At that time,I was just about to step into the 31st week.

I had been hoping to go at least up till 33 weeks. I had begged the docs, to wait, not that, it influenced their decision. But, they decided to keep me in the hospital. I was monitored with 4 painful bands, 24x7,..3 to monitor the babies heart beats and another one to monitor the contractions. This made it so difficult to go to the bathroom. Bed pan was out of question. No way would anybody make me do that. That dried up tons of gel on my belly to help move those monitoring bands, since my babies kept shifting their positions. Oh!! shear torture!!  That week in the hospital, Still, not for a moment, I felt like I want the babies out. The docs, had taken the first step to the delivery. They gave me some kind of a steroid shot to help the babies lungs.

Then, when I was about a day from completing the 32 weeks..The doc’s at the hospital gave that ultimate signal. There was no waiting anymore. They had to get the babies out, that day! So, we went into surgery and some time later, baby 1 and 2 came out crying. I could hear their cries. Then about a minute later, I heard baby 3’s cries. They were soon wheeled away by their doctors to the NICU. But, before they left they kissed me. I still have that feel of their skin against mine, so fragile and so soft. I guess, that is one memory that’s going to be engraved in my mind, my body, my soul forever. No number of years is going to fade or erase that.

Suddenly, within a minute, I had become a Mom, Mom to 3 babies…An instant increase in the size of my family. It more than doubled in a minute. The next day..when the nurse called me the “Mom” , or my husband “Dad”, it took us a few moment to recognize, that was us!, ..”Oh! we were parents, right!”…I remember, Pavan was reading a book, and the nurse called out “Dad” to him, and he didn’t even turn.

My body had started to swell, with so much extra fluid. The babies were out, but the extra volume of blood was still there. My body weight had gone from about 120+ pounds(pre pregnancy) to I don’t know what. I know that I had reached 160+ pounds with Richa’s delivery itself.

I was not to see my babies for the next 2 days, since I wasn’t able to stand. All the muscles in my body had vanished. And with that extra volume of blood, that was collecting in my body, my feet had swollen and the skin was getting tighter by the minute. I wasn’t able to pee and every moment was spent in anguish waiting for the milk to start coming. I was worrying about latching, about being able to feed my babies, about the pain that I was experiencing, about that BIG HARD POT that was my tummy now. It reminded me of those drinking water pots in India. 

I knew that they had already started feeding my babies in the NICU. On trying and trying so hard, I was able to remove a few drops of milk and I knew those initial drops were very important for my babies, for their immune system, but, it never reached them. They were enough to just wet the bottle, which I had to send to the NICU.

All those moms who get to put their babies to their breasts as soon as the baby is born…I wasn’t among them. My babies were being fed from  a syringe that went into a pipe that ran from their noses to their tummy and they were being fed formula, not to mention all the injury these pipes cause inside… until they will be able to suck the milk from their mouth, until I will be able to provide my milk for 3 babies,.. They were pre-mature babies. 2 months pre-mature put up in the NICU where they would stay for sometime. They weighed between 3 pounds and a little less than 2 pounds. Yeah! that was Baby 3’s weight a day of after her birth, a little less than 2 pounds!

(To Be Continued)…