Monday 27 July 2015

Best served cold - with apologies to Omar Sharif (RIP)

We must dream/
They say/
When we do/
"That's not fair"/
But we will/
And some day...

When K is an adult and driving me around, I am going to: yell in the back seat, struggle out of my seat belt; keep asking her where she is and say I want to come to her; demand food.

At nights (*evil anticipation*) I will wake her up with a yell and a tantrum and demand to be rocked and ask for... (well - alcohol should do it)

When she is working, I will sit on her laptop and send junk messages typed by my bum to her colleagues and business associates. I will also demand to be read to by throwing my book on her laptop. And when she has done that, I will demand it again, and again, and again and again.

I will take over the ENTIRE bed and kick both her and her partner at least five times in the night: attempted suffocation by lying on top of her is optional.

I will constantly demand different kinds of food - preferably something that is not in season and refuse it after it has been prepared.

I will strip and run outside and refuse to wear my clothes (OK - maybe not - this one is scary even for me) running around the house, giggling.

This one is dedicated to that "Some day" (like it says, with apologies to Omar Sharif and his most poignant role as Dr. Zhivago).

It's a JOKE, OK? Just a joke. I need something to make me laugh, lest I break down and howl at the moon along with poor Ghunghroo who is tired of parading up and down with her.

Some day my love
you will be all grown up
That day, my love 
 My revenge will start up

When you are asleep 
I shall nudge you in the face
While you work, my love

This angel shall fall from grace

Someday we'll face off, my love.
Someday whenever you're grown.

Then we shall reprise
Stories from long ago,
It shouldn't be a surprise,
That I say "I told you so".

Till you are grown, my sweet,
Enjoy your toddlerhood.
But when you grow up my love
Revenge will be mine some day.


Sweetest, my heart,
Will be the day you're a mum
That day my love
My life will be complete.

Tuesday 14 July 2015

Neck to neck

I'd say it's a losing battle - trying to force feed gender neutrality to a toddler. I have realised that the more I try and push it, the more she pushes back, till to my (well-hidden) despair, she announced (at all of 26 months) Mamma, I like pink, I don't like blue. 

I've no idea where that came from. And I'm not even going to try and find out. So I have let her be and even indulge her predilection for trying on jewellery. (I am ashamed to admit that my love for semi-precious stones and silver has led me to acquire a rather large stash of much-loved but rarely worn baubles.)

Things came to a head the other day when K wrecked a lovely turquoise necklace (bought for Dadi - grandma) by PP from a Royal Enfield biking trip to Ladakh. The subsequent scolding didn't seem to faze her too much beyond the initial couple of minutes and a few days ago, she proceeded to snap a favourite of mine - a lovely fluorite piece that I had made for myself some years ago.

The realization came to us that she wasn't going to quit raiding jewellery. For better or worse, she is currently a girly girl. So PP had a brainwave while I was out getting a desperately needed pedicure. 

He came back with a box tucked under his arm and proceeded to spend the afternoon busy with K.

Father and daughter were busy with loom bands - the craze among young girls today - and PP created a bracelet for K which she loved. I crocheted up a neck-piece that she could wear.

The downside is feeding this early obsession with jewellery. The upside? Hopefully she will grow out of it and hey - learning that things can be made at home rather than bought is good, n'est ce pas?


Tuesday 23 June 2015

umm - mum mum and more

I get "you're STILL nursing?" quite a bit. K is 25 months old and latched on for good (PP often comforts me, saying that she might just wean before it's time for college) I don't complain (not really, not excepting my routine five times a day - but then I like to whine, so it's ok)

Despite the downsides - the occasional bout of incessant nursing, inevitable biting, and the twiddling / tweaking (which I loathe), the sudden tugging at top in public) there ARE benefits to nursing a toddler for a mom. I am not even getting into the benefits for the child: nutrition, health and bonding. Those are a given. 

The first of them is pure entertainment:

Witness K taking a break from nursing to explore what the dog is eating, deciding that it's not interesting enough for her to try and eat and running back to find that Ma has hurriedly yanked down her t-shirt and is trying to work on her report. K, wearing the kind of smile that adults do when acknowledging a piece of mischief by a child, pokes around inside the t-shirt: मम - मम, कहाँ हो? ओह, यहाँ घुस के बैठे हो? बाहर आओ, एक बात बतानी है| (Trans: mum-mum, where are you? Oh, are you hiding here? Come out, I have something to say to you.) She then proceeds to share her philosophy of life and toys with the mum-mums.

The second is an object lesson in how you have been born solely to cater to a little dictator:
Mamma, यह वाला मम मम चाहिए, Mamma वो वाला मम मम चाहिए. Mamma ऊपर से पीना है, नीचे से चाहिए. Mamma ठीक से मम मम पीना है न. (Trans: Mamma, I want this mum mum. Mamma, I want that mum mum. Mamma I want to drink from the top [of the t-shirt] Mamma, I want it from the bottom [ this means, pull the tee up]. Mamma, I want to feed properly.

The third is weight maintenance:
Let me tell you about amount of thick cream (from my mom's cows) and jaggery that I consumed with plump round chapatis; or the endless rounds of kachori-sabzi, jalebi, lassi, paalak ki chaat, golgappas, tamaatar ki chaat, dahi vada, kulfi that I had this summer in Banaras. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much, because my lil' milk monster siphons most of it off.

There are actually lots more benefits: but these happen to be my favourites... what're yours?