For Chachaji

Written on 12th November 2010

I lost my uncle today. When I got the news I was at home with D. H was travelling and out of reach. I couldn't tell my sister as she is expecting her baby anytime and I didn't want to upset her. It was Friday night so I did not want to disturb my friends here.

And in this beautiful big house thousand of miles away from my family with all the modern means of communication - laptops, phone lines, ipad, iphone, broadband internet...I felt alone and incredibly sad. What is the point of it all? Your family has nurtured you and you are not even there when they need you.

I met Chachaji earlier this year for a very short time. I was leaving just as he reached. He looked so old and frail. I wept so much looking at him. He held my face in his hands and gave me a kiss. And I cried. I thought the tears were for him but they were really for my childhood. In his eyes I was still a little girl. With his passing, I have lost a piece of my childhood.

Rest in peace Chachaji. Thank you for everything.

Loss

Thinking about loss today. What it does to us? Do we grieve for who is gone or do we grieve for ourselves? Or do we grieve for the pain our loved ones are feeling? Can one ever get over a loss?

When you lose it

Two days ago D got her pre-school booster shot. We were dreading it, fearing defeaning howls in the surgery. So we did what every sensible parent does, we prepared to bribe her with nothing less than lollipop and candies. H scheduled his day to be with her (I know!!!). Once in the nurse's room, he got his blabkberry out to engage her with photos and looked up to see that the shot had been given before anyone in the room except the nurse knew it. Not a single tear or even a whimper! D does not know even now that she got a 'jection'.

Anyways, that was not the point of this post. I wanted to put down something down here that D could dig into everytime she felt unsure about herself. There will be times when she feels she is not good, not clever etc etc. But she will always have this post to remind her of what she is capable of.

After we came out of the surgery, D started eating her lollipop that H had given her. nurse's room. D is not too big on chocolates but she is absolutely crazy about lollipops. It can get us out of any mess. We went to the park nearby to meet her friends. As we entered the park, I told D to throw the lollipop on the bin. She obviously refused. She had just started on it. Then I explained that when other children see her eating lollipop they will start crying as they don't have any. She immediately took her hand to the bin, thought for a second and dropped the lollipop into the bin. Just like that.

I was speechless. At the back of my mind I knew that she would throw it but I was prepared for refusal. This child loves lollipops with a passion but the compassion in her heart overrode everything. I was deeply humbled and my heart ached for her. God bless you my child and may He give you a lot of strength to accompany the compassion.

And I am dead

I pick D up from the nursery. She asks to go shopping and I need to do some shopping. Serendipity. She is in a happy happy mood. She heads home on her scooter with me lumbering behind her. She reaches home and turns back and gives me a radiant smile. My heart melts as I beam at her. She says, "I reached and you did not reach. You are dead."

Heartbeat

One, two, thwee...so you go bringing a smile that reaches our souls. Happy third birthday our light. I probably hug and tell you twenty times a day how much I love you but I never thank you.
Thank you my child for gracing our lives with your beauty, gentleness and joy. When I speak sharply to you your face falls and you try to come close to me and touch me. Today I screamed at you and you began to cry. When I did not respond you said, "I want to give you a hug, Mama." As we hugged you said, "I will not do it again." and my heart broke! You are only three sweetheart, you are supposed to throw tantrums not cuddle my anger away.

Thank you for teaching me to breathe deeply. Life is so busy and I often feel out of control trying to cram as much as possible in a day. Everything I do is in sharp contrast to our 10 minute walk to/from nursery. You teach me to slow down and smile, to look around and breathe a little easy. We make silly rhymes, say 'bad man' for every piece of litter
we see on the way and I try to answer your " what I do today?" as imaginatively as possible. You need company all the time. You would probably not need a single toy if we had enough people around.

Thank you my jaan for your bright smile, twinkling eyes, your healing touch and the spring in your steps. Thank you for the stories you make up always beginning with "once upon a time..." they always bring a smile. Thank you for being a big girl and "not a baby" as you love to say with your face all scrunched. We loved you crazily when you were a baby and are even more smitten with the "big girl" that you are becoming. You are our pride, our joy, our heartbeat. Happy Birthday Beautiful! May you live a long joyful adventurous and fearless life!
Your Papa and Mama

Bad start to a day

Its not a good idea to read the news in the mornings. Not when you read things like this. I felt a stab in my heart as I read that this baby was also born in January 2007, like D. Their closeness in age brought home the baby's (Baby H) pain to me. I remembered how delicate D felt when she was a few weeks old, how everyone would touch her as tenderly as possible. Baby H had her body pushed forcibly into clothes at that age. How she must have cried! 

My eyes are smarting with tears. We human beings are so cruel. But how could they do this to a baby, a tiny frail little thing. How could they?

Two days ago I had commented on TMM's blog that motherhood builds character. Now I am not too sure.

Red Nose Day

And I had no idea that such a day existed. D was asked to come to nursery in all red to mark the day and we were asked to donate one pound. Intrigued, I turned to internet and learnt that it is a day where funds are raised through comedy (mainly) to support many charities across the world. Comic Relief, as you may say. You can find out more about it here.

The concept brings a smile to my face.

Its a beautiful life

My Darling D,

In 5 days you turn 2 years old and I have not even completed a sentence before my eyes well up. I write to celebrate your birthday, to express gratitude for having you in my life, to tell you how meaningless you have rendered my words. Nothing I had read or heard or seen had prepared me for this onslaught of intense, animal like feelings I have for you. So, I know my words will do absolutely no justice to what I want to say.

Remember, I wrote in your diary, when I looked at you for the first time I thought you had the perfect face. Every single day for the past 2 years I have felt the same. You are the most beautiful person in the world, with eyes that twinkle and express and have complete conversations. And a nose that you think is a horn to press and say 'beep beep'. And lips that are shaped as if drawn on picture. And a chin that you just won't let me touch, screaming 'chin nahin, chin nahin'. 

There is nothing in the world that compares to your soft little hands stroking my hair and saying, 'cootie pie mamma' or your still body suddenly move to shower me with kisses as we lie down for the night. Every 'I love you' has to be answered with, 'lub you', every hug has to be reciprocated with a tighter one. I thought you were supposed to be terrible at two. If this is terrible, then I love terrible.

I admit I lose my temper with you screaming for 'bikit' fifty times in a day or you refusing to go to bed....ever. But you read my mood very well and know when to throw a big tantrum and when to stop in a minute. When I am stern, you grin and keep grinning till you get a smile. When all else fails, you ask for Papa as you have him wrapped around your finger....for life I think.

You love being with people but take your time getting comfortable. After I have said bye to you in the nursery, I peep inside and see you standing and observing everyone for a long time before you move towards any activity. You are learning to talk in English at the nursery and your accent is cute. You can communicate in Hindi, today I heard you speaking to your nursery nurse in Hindi , 'guv (gloves) kahan?' 

There are many things you can or cannot do. That is not important. What is important is that you grow up with the same surety of love that you feel from people around you now. I hope that the love and deep affection that you have received from so many people - your grandparents, aunt, uncle, even neighbours - helps make you strong, confident and sensitive. They say, you can tell a person's personality very early in life. If so, you are going to rock my baby. You are and will be a fine person - loving, intelligent and funny. A lover of music, dancing, books, and how can I forget....food; we look forward to great times with you.

Its a beautiful life my darling.

Mamma

The year that was

I am listening to H telling a friend on the phone that the year was great. I agree. We have had a busy year, with the move to London, a wedding in the family, and all the travel we have done. When I look back at the year, I feel that this has also been a year when many things have come together for us. D has consumed most of my time and mindspace this year. From a quiet no-fuss one-year old she transformed into a demanding toddler who is already giving me nightmares about her teenage years. But what a joy! Pure joy to see her grow into a loving, spirited, funny person.

The trip to India was great. It was one of those trips which have left me with a treasure-box of memories. My bro-in-law got married and what a party! It was one big dance-party. We had a great time. The entire extended family got a chance to spend time together and it was fun. D got a little hassled with all the crowd and lack of attention. She was too young to enjoy it I think.

We also had a sisters reunioun at my parents home. It was almost after ten years or so that we got a chance to really be together other than for weddings. We did nothing but chat, eat, chat and eat some more...It was a blissful time. This is the pull of the childhood home and siblings. There is no other place that can make you feel so at peace. D had a chance to spend time with her cousins and she loved being with them especially with A who is just 2 days older than her.

Heres wishing you a great 2009!

Home Beckons

We are off to India in two days. I am so looking forward to it. I never realized how much I missed being in India until the days to go home drew near. The thought of meeting my family and feeling the comfort and warmth that only being with them can bring, is making my heart smile. There is lots to look forward to. A wedding, festivals and weather which doesn't make me check the temperature every time we step out.

I am terribly excited for D too. She is going to be spend time with people who think she is the most precious thing. Moreover, she is going meet her cousins. She is going to have a ball and return thoroughly pampered and spoilt.

Stepping beyond

We knew we would put D in a nursery setup soon. Living by ourselves, without the benefit of an army of cousins for D to interact with, we thought it would be good for her. The added benefit being a slow introduction to life with Mama out of sight for a few hours. Moving to London just made that decision easier. First the quality of nurseries here is quite good and very actively regulated. Moreover, with no help to manage the house, there was no way I could entertain her as much as she wanted me to.

A month after we moved to London, I found out about the various nurseries in the area, mainly over the internet. I had begun taking D to story-telling sessions in the local library as soon as we moved here. I got a few tips from mothers there. I shortlisted a few and began visiting them one by one with D in tow. I also considered home-based care (Known as child-minders in UK) where a much smaller number of children (maximum 8, generally 4-5) are looked after by a carer at her home. 

After much thought and discussion with H we opted with a new nursery a bit far off (about 2 kms) from our house. A few things I looked for as I visited the nurseries

• Did the kids look happy? Did D look happy?
  
• Did the employees look happy?
  
• Was it clean?
  
• Were they flexible enough to feed or rock the children if needed?
  
• How committed was the manager? How did D react to her? Did I feel comfortable with her? Are the adults in charge paying attention to D or only interested in talking to me?
  
• Did the nursery offer half-day session? Many established ones only offered full-day care.
  
• Were there enough checks and balances to see that kids would be well looked after. Child-minders were out due to this reason. With only one adult in the house, you never know what goes on. Taking care of children is exasperating. Sometimes I feel like giving D one tight one. It takes all my willpower not to act on this feeling. Also as I feel this, I look at her beautiful face and my heart melts.

In the end we opted for the present nursery as it had fewer children so we hoped D would get more attention and would feel less overwhelmed. It also mattered to us that the person who had set this nursery up was herself managing it. It wasn't a job for her. It was her passion. Having worked in an entrepreneurial setup, I know what a big difference that makes.

D was taking to each place we visited extremely well. She would refuse to return from these visits. When we began the settling in process at her present nursery (lets call it W) I stayed with her for an hour on the first day. She went headlong into playing with the toys and other kids. I sat there watching her and feeling so proud. She is such a confident child. It truly is a pleasure watching her interact with the world as if it was made to order for her. Anyways, she paid no attention to me there. The next day I sat in the room for half an hour and then said bye to her and left. She looked at me as if to say 'Don't disturb me'. I sat in a cafe close to her nursery, and I was so nervous, I could not read beyond two sentences of the book I was trying to read. I had never left her like this except with family, who D knows and loves. In the end I gave up and returned earlier than in I needed. I found her happily playing. Whew! What a relief. She had been happily playing all the while. The next day I left her there for a longer time so that she could have lunch with all the kids. I returned to find her eyes and nose red. She saw me and started sobbing. Apparently, one of the kids had been howling his lungs out throughout (he still was when I returned). D had been happily playing for an hour and a half. Then the howling got to her and she started crying.

Once we were out of the nursery, she wanted to return. Whenever we asked her at home if she wanted to go to the nursery, she would nod her head vigorously. But once we reached there she would cling and start crying "Mama, mama." Seeing her cry like that was like a little stab in the heart. I would hang around outside the door to see if she stopped crying. She always did in 2-3 minutes and then would be fine afterwards. When I returned to take her home, she would give a little sob and put her lips. 

After the first few days, H started dropping her. After 2-3 days, she stopped crying. We were ecstatic, but I think the adults she was getting used to in her room went on holiday and that upset her. So the crying began again. She would only cry when H dropped her. Her nursery nurses said that she would be absolutely fine in a few minutes. But her crying really upset me. Everytime H called to say that she howled 'Mama, mama' when he left her, my heart would sink and I wouldn't be able to do anything and run off to collect her earlier than required.

Anyways, ultimately the crying stopped. I think it took 8 days for the crying to stop completely. I think it would have stopped much earlier had she been going for more days per week (she was doing 2 mornings a week), and if there had been no changes in the adults in-charge in her room. Just before she stopped crying, I had spent a lot of time the previous evening talking to her about the nursery and explaining the whole process of Papa dropping her, and how she should say bye and blow kisses and then go off to hug her friends and play in the water tray. I also told her that I would come and bring her home after she had eaten her lunch. I repeated the same thing as I got her ready in the morning. It worked like magic! Maybe I just told her all this when she was ready to stop crying anyways. Whatever it is, it is such a relief to see her so happy in the nursery. She is raring to go everyday and doesn't like it when H leaves for office without taking her to the nursery. When I bring her back home, she is happily singing and talking to herself. It gives me the much needed break to get other things done, so that on days that she doesn't go to nursery I can just sit with her at the window and hear her point to 'boughoy' (boy), geel (girl) and beeya (bhaiya)!

Thoughts on work

Today I went for a meeting. A meeting that was about me. After nearly 2 years it was very refreshing. I guess that is why work is important. It is a place that is about you and what you bring to the table. All other places it is a lot about how you are related to the table :) What I am trying to say is family will like you not only because you are good for the family, but largely because you are family. So a large part of self-esteem comes from making a mark outside of home.

Family is a setup that is so important to identity formation in the initial years. But later in life do you need to be out there to assert your identity? I don't know how generations of women managed. What did they derive their sense of accomplishment day-to-day? For someone like me, it is difficult to do that only sitting at home taking care of children, husband and house. For women, who are used to going out to work, does elf-esteem always take a beating when they take a break to look after their children?  

I am unable to write coherently as I am very sleepy. I thought I should put it down before the thought escapes my mind.

The only way to be

Today I received an email from a friend how inspiring my decision to quit work to look after D fulltime had been for her. It was a very touching compliment and I am very thankful for it. Another friend had written sometime back, how looking at D's pictures the first thought that comes to his mind is that she is a happy child. ...daughter of a Milk and Honey mother (this concept was given by a psychoanalyst Erich Fromm. According to him, milk symbolises the first aspect of love, that of care and affirmation. Honey stands for the sweetness of life, the happiness in being alive. He goes on to say that most mothers are capable of giving 'milk', but only a minority give 'honey' too. Hence the term 'Milk and Honey Mother'). I was so touched by his email that I must have read it at least 20 times. 

You know, people like us are used to feedback in our experiences in life. You write an exam, make a project, participate in extra-curricular activities etc, you have the results to tell you have done something worthwhile or screwed up. You work, you have colleagues, bosses, appraisals etc that tell you if you are upto the mark. Motherhood, on the other hand, just goes on without a comment. An extensive, challenging project without evaluation.

I have never stopped to think that I am doing anything great by staying home to look after D. I did it because it felt the most natural thing to do. I am thankful that I could afford to do it because we feel (I guess feel is the keyword) financially secure. H took on the responsibility of providing for us without us even discussing finances. 

I do (and did off and on) miss working, the opportunity to interact with like-minded people, getting out to get things done. But when I worked before D was born, I sometimes missed being able to just sleep in late and laze around, read books all day or visit my family when I felt like. It didn't make me chuck up my work and sit at home. We are always missing something or the other because we have experienced so much. It is the predominant feeling and thought that stay with you day in and day out is what counts. That feeling has largely been contentment. Amen!

Its now that I feel the urge to return to work very strongly. D goes to nursery and loves it. She can't wait to get out of the house with her father every morning. She goes just 2 mornings but we are being forced to increase it, she enjoys it so much. So work will happen too. All in good time.

Trying to be better

I realize I have been a very poor blogger. I spend far too much time reading and too little writing anything. That would make me a parasite, as per what I had read about the act of reading. I have been just feeding off others and creating nothing new. So, I have decided that I will post something everyday, even if its just a line.

I am tempted to end this post here as I have already written 5 lines. I will actually end it as the only way to get over a temptation is to yield to it! Thats 7 lines. Actually now its 8. Oh this can go on.

Celebrating..

Written on 12th Sep 2008

We celebrate H's birthday today. I don't know if he will cringe at this public post when he sees this when he checks my blog once in the next six months ( he just checked it last month).  Even if he does, I think he will feel happy to read all the nice things written about him. Or when he sees that I am dedicating 'Thank You' by Dido to him yet again.

Here's wishing you a very happy birthday and a great year with loads of fantastic movies, great books, enchanting new places and huge deals! And yes, D and I tag along in all these wonderful times that you enjoy.

Happy Birthday H. Thank God you were born. You rock my world.

Edited to add: I can't figure out why the date says 11th September. I posted it on 13th September.

Weekend in Paris

I am still little dreamy-eyed. Paris is like a dream. We just returned after spending three days there. I have longed to go to Paris ever since I watched ‘Sabrina’. It looked very beautiful but what really got me intrigued was this ‘I found myself in Paris’ bit. Not that I needed to find myself but don't you feel like just immersing yourself in something different and beautiful knowing that it will leave you happier and better. That is why I want to travel.

I am rambling. We covered some major tourist spots in this trip – Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Arc De Triomphe, Champs- Elysees, Musee Rodin. All are must-dos in our list.

Eiffel Tower looks much better at night with the lights. During the day, I found it to be awe inspiring but ugly.



We loved Musee Rodin. It does not have the magnificence of Louvre but it is more intimate. It speaks to you. Also managed to take a short Boat Cruise across the Seine. It was a great way to get a glimpse into the Parisian life. They really know how to enjoy themselves!


We walked a great deal. The Metro (rail) is good and well connected but the stations are not very toddler-friendly. We had to carry the pushchair up and down the stairs at all stations. I would walk anywhere but more so in Paris. I felt liberated as we walked without a care, talking about general stuff (mostly nonsense), all the while drinking in the beautiful architecture, lively cafes and streets full of character. I, the fool that I am, did not carry my walking shoes. I was soaking my feet every night to pay for that.


D had great time. Running around in the various gardens, chasing birds and trying to feed them her food. She would walk up to random strangers and extend her hand to say hello. In the gardens at the Louvre, she walked up to a gang of 4 women, put out her hand to one of them, pointed to us and told them that we were her ‘Mama’ ‘Papa’. Not content with just introductions sat down with a ‘thud’ to join in some girly fun with them. Her naps were also very well timed. At both the Louvre and Musee Rodin, she dozed off just as we were about to enter the museum and woke up as we stepped off. Thank you D!


The French are a little more difficult to understand though. Scowling middle-aged waiters make you feel apologetic for ordering food with them. One of them scowled and snapped so much through my order that H refused to order his meal!

I would love to meet you again Paris, notwithstanding a full plate of French fries that you make me gulp down in the name of Lunch!

Caesarean story

When I was due to deliver, I remember, how frantically I would search for these stories looking for information and assurance. I have always wanted to put down the story of the birth of my daughter. I have not done so, partly due to laziness, and partly due to my feeling of it being too personal to be put on my blog, which is not really an intimate blog. Today I saw this and I decided I must put it down because I am sure it will be of use to someone.

I had a hassle free pregnancy and was all set for a normal delivery, because I had done everything I could and nothing ever goes wrong in my life! I had been fairly regular with walks, yoga and practicing Lamaze breathing techniques (I had dragged H along for a twelve hour session). By the 31st week of my pregnancy, fetus was head down and I was all set. Then on 15th January (I was over 37 weeks pregnant then) as I lay on the ultrasound table grinning at H without a care in the world, the doctor says, “Do you know that your baby’s head is up?” It took me a while to understand. Then she repeated, “Its breech.” I looked at H lost and said to the doc, “It was already head down.” As the realization sunk in I asked her, “What does this mean, caesarean?” She said yes. And tears started flowing down my cheeks. H tried to console, the doctor tried to explain that its not a big deal and it is the safe thing to do but I wouldn’t stop and kept feeling bad for being so out of control.

My gynecologist also confirmed that its too late in the pregnancy for breech to reverse but they will anyways try for normal delivery as far as possible. I was beyond disappointed. After doing everything I could, I felt a little betrayed. Having read so much on virtues of natural birth etc, I felt as if I would forego an essential experience of my life and start my child off on the wrong foot.

After crying some more on H’s shoulders and moping around, I went into an information collection overdrive. I read up as many caesarean stories as I could. I decided not to look at the anti-caesarean articles, stories etc. There was no point now. Reading up on the positive stories helped me like nothing else could. A friend told me that she had had both and much preferred the caesarean. I was soon over my disappointment and was preparing for the birth of my child. I was not the one to give up though. I tried all those tricks that I read to help the baby turn. Tricks like putting ear-phones to the stomach and playing music (there would be mad bout of kicks when I did that), or putting my feet up on a plank etc etc. H was an amused party to them when I needed his help.

On 24th January I went for a check-up. After checking me up the doctor told us that baby was still breech and there was little chance of that correcting. She also advised us that we should go in for a planned caesarean rather than waiting for labor as complications may arise then. To this day I don’t know what she saw while checking me up that made her say that. My father, a surgeon himself, was completely on her side. I tried saying that we can wait till my due date but really my heart was not in it. I had prepared myself for a caesarean. I still wept like a baby (!) in the doctor’s chamber with the doc, H and Papa trying to comfort me. The doc said something like, the scar will be so low down and light that I can even wear a bikini later. That was some comfort!

A date was set for 3 days later and I lost my sleep. No matter how prepared you are, the excitement of finally getting to meet the baby and the anxiety over an impending surgery unnerves you. In response my dear fetus, who is now my darling animal-sound making daughter, went to a kicking overdrive. Especially the night before the c-sec, she kicked all night long and I slept for maybe few minutes. We were already in the hospital as the c-sec was scheduled for 6 am. H who had planned to stay up all night and wake me up at 4 am when the nurses were to come in for preparations, slept soundly. I lay awake excitedly waiting to meet the baby in a few hours. Yes, by now, all fears of a surgery were gone; the baby was all I could think off.

The surgery was a breeze. My doctor came to see me in my room and accompany me to the OT. She is a really sunshiny kind of person and laughed and joked with me as I told her how I had dreamt that my baby was reading a book (which was quite a prediction I must say, that is all that she does now). Anyways it was quite a party with H, mummy, sis, in-laws, bro-in-law all accompanying me as I was being wheeled towards the OT. I went in and the anesthetist staff set to work before the main anesthetist and my doctor came in. The anesthetist was lovely. She stroked my hair and told me I how cute and baby-like I looked. A fully bloated overweight pregnant woman just needs to hear that to forget everything else. Neotany and all that! It was a spinal anesthesia. I didn’t feel anything, not that I remember any of it. And as the surgery went on I heard everything and knew what was happening as I had read up so much on it. I was completely at ease. I did feel nauseous in between and told the anesthetist. They adjusted the oxygen and I was fine.

Before I knew it, I heard “It’s a girl” and heard my baby cry. Then they brought her to me. As she gazed at me with her bright eyes, I felt that hers was the most perfect face I had ever seen. I stroked her cheeks and said, “Hi darling. You are so sweet.” Then they took her away. I was worried that they would feed her something, but H was right at his job (we have it on camera) telling anyone who would care to listen that they should not give the baby anything before I got a chance to feed her.

Anyways, after lying in the recovery area (uselessly I thought) for quite some time I was wheeled out near the entrance of the OT where I could see H peering in through the small opening in the door. I blew him kisses! Yes I was not feeling the pain yet. The pain came at about noon and man, it came like a flood. I refused the painkillers as often as they were advised. The pain was bad that day and eased the next day. By the third day I was only feeling it when I moved. I was also able to breastfeed from the word go. I feared that I would not be able to breastfeed, as I had heard that having a caesarean reduces the chances of successful breastfeeding. My daughter had nothing else, not even water, till she was 6 months old.

The point of saying all this is not to promote having a caesarean. I just want to reassure all those women who have to have it, that it is not a monster and does not blotch motherhood in any way. It is not natural but it is also a lifesaver. My conclusion at the end of my experience is that just like doctors are accused of being scissor-happy I feel the natural birth brigade (of which I am a part) goes on an overdrive extolling the virtues of a normal delivery and condemning caesareans. This leaves women who miss the chance of a natural birth process feeling miserable and inadequate. Acceptance and mental preparation add greatly to make a caesarean birth as happy and celebratory as the normal one.

Provoked

I had written this post on 16th January 2008. I don't even remember the post that triggered it.

It gets extreme posts like this and this and this to shake me out of slumber and write something on my blog. The basic premise of these posts is that children are nuisance to anyone who does not have children (and does not like them) and a child's presence (unless it is sitting silently or talking in whispers) is torturous to people-who-do-not-care-for-children. Equally irksome are parents who think the world of their children and can't stop fawning over them or talking about them. Among various remedies suggested are - keeping children out of public places unless they clearly specify that children are welcome, leaving them with babysitters (and working really hard and sincerely to find a babysitter; inability to find a good one is deemed a lame excuse) finding a group of like minded parents to hang out with and talk about their kids to heart's content etc. etc. You get the drift?

I feel disturbed reading these posts. Since when did this world become the property of adults with children becoming just a source of nuisance? They cannot voice, leave alone write clever English to, fight for their rights. Don't they have a right to venture out and experience all that there is to offer? Why should they be left with babysitters? To coexist in a society we have to develop a tolerance for many things. Don't children negotiate the dangers that the adults are continuously inflicting on them - poisonous air, vehicles that impede their free movement outside of home, buildings that have been built keeping only the adults in mind....the list could go on. And its not like these irksome creatures are in a minority. According to the 2001 census almost 30% of the Indian population is below the age of 14. They have a claim to this world too.

A child banging her spoon on a restaurant table is not doing it to irritate you or attract your attention. She is doing it as the sound and her ability to produce that sound not only fascinates her but is also teaching her many things about cause and effect, differences in sounds etc. Just like how the words you write in your post fascinate you and how.

I realize that I am unable to write a rational post on this. I have always likes children and now when I have a child of my own, such thinking just gets to me.

Being Evil

Returning to the blog after a long time. I have been too lazy and would have continued to be so had a guilt not seized me. The guilt of being evil. I have realized that I am not the kind and loving soul that I thought I was. D has made me realize that. I have been an evil mother. And I come to you blog to confess.

When D asks me to read her book out, I mouth the words without actually voicing them just to confuse her. In my defense this happened when she thrust the book for the 14th time in a span of 20 minutes. To her credit she kept at it relentlessly inspite of my evil ways. So I kept mouthing the entire book 5 more times.

I serve myself crunchy chips with lunch. When D hears the sound, she crawls to me speedily and asks for her share. I feed her rice and dal. The expression on her face is priceless. She turns away and I again eat the chips. She quickly turns back, stands up to come near my face and starts eating my cheek. I laugh my head off.

She loves to eat the strings of her sweatshirt hood. I throw them back. She goes berserk rotating her head and throwing her hand behind her trying to get the string back. Though I do it to prevent her from swallowing a part of the string, I must admit that I also find her reaction very very amusing.

I guess Santa is not getting me any gifts this year!

The coolest thing....

This is the coolest thing. I am sitting in Bihar and updating my blog from my mobile phone over gprs. Mighty thrilled. Though typing on the phone is a pain.