Thursday, June 27, 2013


Its high time I wrote about my little-one, (actually not-so-little-one now). Not because it's been a long time since I wrote anything about her, but mainly because the brat's mischiefs are going a long way, too fast for me to remember to pen everything down.

First things first. About how your 4th birthday went, you didn't make any big fuss, (even when we delayed giving you, your gifts.) It was a neat affair. You got up, dressed up, gave sweets to everyone, had your regular fights with your sister, succeeded in making her cry, and got on your way. But you did create a big scene on your sister's birthday. How dare I deliver Smruthi first! How cruel of me to deliver you second! If I had been any fair mom, I should have given birth to you first and made Smruthi your younger sister. Then, your birthday would have come first, and you need not have been the one to keep asking her for chocolates. She would have been the one coming to you for the chocolates, if it had been your birthday first. But, since everything was in my control, I decided to favor your sister and made her birthday come before yours. Yes, that's very cruel of me! If only I had such power!!!

There was this day, when I made the stupid mistake of assuming that you would love to see your childhood photos and took out the entire collection of albums. You had one look at your 1st birthday album, peeped over to see your sister's album, and immediately all hell broke loose. How dare she come into your photo albums, but not single one of her birthday pictures had your photo in it. Again, the same argument why was I not the first? Oh god! Where does she get these ways of thinking! Darling, you still don't understand the perks of being the last one in the family.

 You are slowly leaving your kiddish slangs and coming to perfection. I remember the day when you came running to me and demanded me to ask you your name. "What's your name?" And you clearly, and very cutely replied "Shwaathi" instead of your usual 'Faathi'. I was not sure if I should feel proud or sad, because you are growing up. Oh, how I would miss my 'Faathi'! With a dull heart, I ask you the next 'sw' word, and pat came the reply - 'fimming'. Thank God, all was not lost. I still get to have few more days to enjoy your mazhalai.

You really are a lovey-dovey baby to have. Every day, you eagerly await my return from office. The moment you see my car near the gate, you come rushing to me even before I open the gate, grab my cell phone through the gaps within the grills, get inside the house and start playing ANGRY BIRDS, making me really ANGRY. For a moment, for a single fleeting moment, I had thought that you were coming to hug me, and you proved again that you are the more practical-than-emotional types. As long as I'm in the house, my mobile becomes entirely your property. To the extent, that you go and charge the mobile yourself, whenever the battery is low.

Unlike your sister, you really don't care to show me your school works or share your day's incidents at school. All you do is to re-collect and laugh at the funny things which your friends said or did at school. Like the first day, you said there was someone named 'Rica-Rica' in your class and laughed at how funny that the same name has to be said twice for her. We are not even sure if that's the real name or if its one more of your mazhalai sorkal. All this mockery even when you were not able to say your name properly enough. That is how your nick-name 'Faathi...Faathi' was born, and till date, even when you say your name perfectly, we love calling you 'Faathi...Faathi'.
You are totally rebellious. There are only very few instances when I can remember you obeying me. (And usually, they would be for an ulterior motive) All other times, you are very cautious not to do anything I tell you to, and to do, everything that I ask you NOT to. And the worst part, you seem to easily get away with it. There was this one incident where the floor was full of your pencils and crayons, and when I told you to clean up, you simply refused and demanded your sister to do it to for you. (Mind you, you didn't request, you demanded!) When I asked YOU to clean up before I counted five, you stood there staring at me. And when I started counting 1, 2, you immediately completed the countdown for me and ran out of the room- obviously without cleaning up. Smruthi and I looked at each other, and the floor was clean five minutes later, (by us, of course!) Your sister wouldn't have got away with half the things which you easily seem to get away with. Every time I try to be fair with you and your sister, I  seem to be fighting a losing game. The privileges of second-borns, I guess. So, now don't you dare accuse me of favoritism to your sister.

Even though you make me think that you are the not-so-emotional one, you do display your emotions rarely, when you come running to me to the kitchen, ask me to bend down, kiss me on the cheek and the times when we both are alone, you hug me tight and kiss me all over my face, and laugh at my reactions. I live for these moments baby. No matter how rebellious you are, how cranky you be, how much you irritate me, I can stand everything for these precious few moments. They make me realise how precious you are to me. My little preciouussss!!!!!!!!!!! My little princess!!!!!!!!!

Friday, June 21, 2013

6-yr old question bank

Smruthi these days is literally a question bank. She starts questioning anything and everything that she sees these days. I read in some childcare website that the kids' curiosity should not be controlled, and that as parents, we should try to answer them as best as we can, and never say, 'you will learn about it when you grow up", and so on. So, I try to answer them as best as I can, to the extent my patience stands. (If only I catch hold of the person who gave this advice!)

 At the beginning, it was only at the bed-time that the questions were raised. She would lie beside me, stare at the fan, think about something, and ask me questions, like "How does the sun go down and moon comes up in the night?" I try to answer her in the simple possible ways, and all she does is derive more questions out of that, until I become technically unaware of the answer, like this: "Why is that only the earth has to revolve around the sun, why can't the sun and earth take turns to revolve around each other, so that it will be easy for both?" Yeah, right! Explaining gravity and stuff like that goes way beyond my boundary, especially at 10 in the night. (Why don't YOU make it easy for ME by sleeping soon?)

But these days, the questions have started flowing all the time, how are saris made, how does bulb glow, and on and on. Like today morning, when she was out of the bath, and I was drying her, she looks at the bed and asks "How are pillows made?". I tried to explain her how cottons are grown out of trees and are then softened and stuffed to form pillows, quickly dressed her and ran out of the room before she could ask me any more questions on that.

And then, there are these not-so-technical questions, which makes me prefer the technical ones better.

The other day she sees my deo and asks:
"Maa, why do you use this deo?"
I explain her why deodarants are used, again in as simple way as I could, to which she answers casually, "No, no, I already know why deodarants are used. What I asked was why do you THIS deo? You can use Dove, right? It will make you fairer"
What? Why? (wondering how she knew about deodarants)
"Because that's what they say in TV ads. Use Dove for lighter underarms!"

And she is not a big TV addict either. She watches only cartoon channels for less than an hour a day and the ads are mostly kids based there.

Another incident, where she keeps admiring herself in the mirror, as I clean the room, and asks:

S: Maa, shall I stay in this house itself when I grow up?
Me: Obviously, where else will you go?
S: (as though I didn't hear her properly) Maa, when I GROW UP?
Me: Yeah, so what if you grow up? You'll have to stay here only right?
S: Maa, when I become like YOU
(I get a hint at where she is coming to, and try to drag the questions, so that I need not answer)
Me: So, what if you become like me? Where will you go?
S: (frustrated at my lack of understanding) Maa, when I grow up and have my own kids, can I stay in this house even then?

As I was wondering how to answer this one, luckily Swathi entered the room, an instant argument started between the two, (about what I don't remember now) and I was spared from answering this one. She becomes engrossed in her own thoughts, and springs up the questions at the totally unexpected moments. Makes me wonder at how much she seems to be observing and absorbing from the world around her. The cute little baby, I held in my arms 6 years ago, is slowly turning a girl, and before I realise, all the innocence seems to be vanishing in front of my eyes, and it pains me to realise the transition. These days, I stay in constant alert as to when she will pop out her next question, and am bracing myself for it. Now, you know why I'm searching for the person who gave that piece of advice.

Yeah, that's me!