Turning Four

What must it feel like to turn four?  I dont remember it from when I was four.  I do have recollections of early birthdays but not as early as four.  So, now, as a parent, I wonder what it must feel like.  Because this is the first one, where N has any sense for what the concept is all about.  I dont think he fully understands it, but he recognizes that it is a milestone, and that he is older ("bigger", in his speak) than someone who is three.

Birthdays and blessings

Thinking of you so much today.  Time has flown, but you have brought that to my life which I think I cannot live without, ever - unconditional love.  And joy. And meaning, like never before.

I hope you are having a wonderful day.  I will stop by to hello soon.  And then, yes, we'll have some of your favourite cake to share with your friends.

Five - just so unbelievable my love.  Today, I send prayers and thoughts of gratitude for being given you.  I wish all the best blessings for you, but I cannot be thankful enough for you truly are and have been my biggest blessing.

Love always, always,
Mamma

morals and life lessons

Dodda: Once upon a time, there were two cats. They saw a piece of bread at the same time and started fighting. So, to resolve the issue, they went to the Judge, Mr. Fox. Fox took a weighing scale and to balance the scale kept eating little bits of the bread until there were no more pieces left. The moral of the story is?

Mr. Nayan: Do not go to the judge.

Long, lean, and squirmy-wriggley-wormy little boys, it seems....... :-))

shop-o-phobia

N now officially has shop-o-phobia.  P claims it comes from him.  I believe that.  Until recently, the little child used to willingly come anywhere.  Any outing offered an opportunity for entertainment.  Adventure even.  Until now.  And it makes me sad.  In any case, when I announced we were going to Kohls, I get a tantrum in return.

Me: C'mon N, put on your shoes.  We're going to Kohls.
N: I don't wanna go to Kohls!!
Me: Please N, hurry up.  We have to go.  I'm going to buy you new shoes.
N: I don't want new shoes.
Me: Ok, then I wont buy them.  But we're going now, so HURRY Up!!!
N: I'm not coming.  You go by yourself.
Me: What are you going to do then?
N: I'll stay at home and play with my cars
Me: But you cant stay by yourself.
N: Why?
Me: Because its not safe.
N: Why?
Me: Because you're a kid, and kids need adults to stay with them?
N: Why?
Me: Because that's how everyone does it.
N: Why?
Me: Because I said so. Now, are you going to get ready or not?
N: No Mamma, I can be here by myself.
Me: No you cant. I just told you, you wont be safe by yourself.
N: No Mamma. I will be.  If I'm not safe, I'll call 9-1-1. (Triumphant grin)

fastpoke

Speed Demon N is obsessed with the speedometer while driving (indeed he is obsessed with being fast with everything.  He hates being a "slowpoke").  Go Faster Baba, Go faster Mamma, is the constant order from the backseat.  From where he sits, he can see the needle and numbers.  So, today, he and Dad are driving at a mere 50 MPH on Fairfax County Parkway and the tyke asks to go at 60.  No, sorry.  Can you go 80 then?  90?  100?  Actually I want you to go at 120.  Dad replies that if he does that, the cop will take them both to jail.  Speed Demon is now wide-eyed and wants to know what the cop will do if they went at 140.  Dad scratches his head and tells him at 140, they will both be taken to jail and not be given any food, only water.  "Only water???!!!!!!" asks the little rascal incredulously.  "What about juice?!!"

As good as we've gotten at answering a thousand questions about anything and everything, my son still has the ability to leave us speechless every now and then!!

birds and bees? not yet, please!

A very pregnant Imon comes home for dinner.  My four year old knows she's going to have a baby.  He also knows the baby is inside her, now obviously in her tummy.  And so, in all seriousness, he tries to put cause and effect together (like he does for everything these days), and asks her with a straight face "Did you eat the baby?  Is that how it got in there?"

Ok, then.  I could afford to laugh this time.  After all, I have a few more years before I need to correct the facts (yikes)!!

As I've mentioned multiple times, the entertainment index in our household is off the charts. :-)

my little munchkin

Just unbelievable that 2012 is over.  Time is truly flying by.  I have spent the last several days just reflecting, and there has been so much to reflect on.  For the most part, I keep thinking of N, and the absolute joy he has brought into our lives.  Could not have asked for a sweeter, smarter, happier, and more loving child.  I am amazed today, that my munchkin of 4 years and three months loves airplanes as much as he does.  Obsession is more like it.  He can spend hours just standing by the runway Dulles or Reagan and watch the planes take off and land.  Over the holidays, he spent days at Udvaar Hazy and the DC Air and Space.  He can look at models, engines, propellers for hours on end.  He can fly paper airplanes for hours.  He has a dozen toy planes that he plays with over and over.  All they do is land and take off, but in his vivid imagination, they cross the skies over the clouds and oceans and land in distant places.  Only to take off and come back again. :-).  I asked him recently whether he wanted to become a pilot when he grew up.  He considered.  Then he looked at me and shook his head.  No?  Firefighter then?  No?  Doctor?  Chef?  Policeman?  No, no, no.  What then, I asked, really wondering.  And my little munchkin says, in all seriousness:  I want to go to the office like Mamma and Baba, and work on the computer.

No words.  Really.  :-)

Such a boy!

Obsessed with airplanes.  Its amazing to watch.  He's been to the Udvaar Hazy Air & Space museum here in Chantilly oh around 100 times in his 4 years and yet he would go there anytime, again and again.  Once there, its a common sight to see him stand in front of an airplane engine, mouth open, absorbing the way it moves, and works, wondering, putting it all together in his little brain.  Fascinating.  And at home, he has a score of planes, different shapes and sizes, and he'll play for hours on end with them.  Imagining them taking off in DC and landing in Bangalore (that's his favourite destination!).

Other obsessions include cars, and trucks, and motorcycles and trains (building the entire track set).  Planes are still the standing favourite.

Oh and of course - taking anything apart and putting it together.  P involves him in all such projects these days, and its really cute to see them together.  Little engineer in the making?

Such a boy.  I wonder is it because he doesn't have girly toys?  What would happen if I bought him a doll, I wonder.  How much of this is conditioning (even though I had at one time resolved not to bring him up with stereotypes)?

I recall an incident at daycare, that I will never forget.  This was when he was 2 years old.  In the class, you have a good mix of boys and girls and you have all sorts of toys.  Whenever I would drop and pick up N, I would see him play with all sorts of toys, but never with the dolls.  The girls on the other hand would be "mothering" the dolls - rocking them, putting them to sleep, putting a blanket on them and patting them gently, etc etc.  It was a really cute sight.  I'm sure N would observe and wonder what that was all about.  Well, one day, I guess he figured he would try it out for himself.  I walk in there one evening, and I see N "playing" with a doll.  I use the word "playing" extremely loosely here.  Because this is what I saw - N had procured a doll.  He then proceeded to throw it on the ground.  Then he snatched a blanket from the shelf.  He threw it on the doll, covering it completely - face and all.  And then, he kneels down, and starts whacking the doll hard.  I guess he thought he was doing what he saw the girls doing (patting their babies to sleep).  Only that instead of putting the doll to sleep, he was actually beating the life out of it.  What's more, he had a gleeful grin on his face while he was whacking away to glory, as if to say "See, I can do this too!!!".

As for me - I didn't know whether to laugh my insides out, or to feel sorry for the doll.  I decided to let him play with planes and cars for the moment!!  Gosh!

Socially unacceptable and therefore supremely entertaining

Put yourself in the mindset of a four year old and what do you have?  An extremely acute understanding of socially unacceptable/embarrassing behaviors and topics to talk (even sing songs) loudly about.  And that, is exactly what is unbelievably fun to bring up and indulge in.  The more public and proper the situation (and therefore more inappropriate to indulge in), the better and funnier it is.

Thing is, it actually is funny sometimes.  Not the behavior itself, but the mirth it induces in my four year old.  And its a struggle to either contain my own laughter or hide it/laugh when he's not looking, and find the right level of seriousness to chide him about it.  What's worse, a scolding only results in even more mirth, often ending in uncontrollable laughter.

Honestly don't know when this phase will pass (really hoping it is a phase).

The topics/behaviors in question have to do with pee-ing, poop-ing, burping and farting.

Sigh.

Seven kinds of People

This post is dedicated to my son, who, by any definition, is one hilarious little guy.  These days, his vocabulary is fairly advanced and he keeps us in peals of laughter with the things he comes up with all the time.  However, this post is reminiscent of almost a year and a half ago, when he was just about learning to talk.  At the time, barely two years old, he could only say a few words.  A favorite activity would be for us to point to pictures in books or magazines, and he would say what he thought they were, or we would say the word, and he would try to repeat it, etc.

There was a time, when he was most interested in pointing to people in magazines.  And we soon realized that he had exactly seven definitions for all the different kinds of people he saw in these pictures.  After several trials, where we would scan all sorts of magazines, newspapers, etc and keep pointing to different people and ask him "Who's that?", and he would answer, what emerged was an unbelievable algorithm for logically identifying people that he was using.

The algorithm went like this:
Any young-ish looking man = Baba (dad)
Any youngish-looking woman = Mamma (mom)
Any older man = Jajja (grandpa)
Any older woman = Bomma (grandma)
Any child (ranging from babies to teenagers) = baby
Any bald person = motte boss (pronounced motthe bosh)
Any African man = Obama

:-D Don't ask who taught him this stuff....

The amazing part was that he had a very clear hierarchy that he would follow no matter what.  So, for example, Obama always took precedence over Baba or Jajja.  An African woman would always be Mamma or Bomma depending on whether she was old or young (so Obama was only reserved for a man, irrespective of age).  A bald man always took precedence no matter what race, or age!!

It was crazy.  At times we could not believe it.  We would sometimes go really quickly through the pages and keep pointing and asking "Who's this?", "Who's this?".  And pat would come the answer.  We tried mixing it up, to see where his logic would fail.  It didn't!  Not once! He stuck to the algorithm.  Consistently.

The whole thing provided for so much entertainment!  Eventually he stopped doing this, as he graduated on to different things.  But as parents, I don't think we'll ever forget it.  I'm adding it to the list of stories I will tell him when he's older.  Seriously, what a funny kid!!

My Sunday Kairos moment

It was the one hour of the Sunday when I could afford to be lazy.  N was taking his afternoon nap.  He agreed to the nap only because I promised him that if he slept like a good boy and without protesting, he could go play in the snow (we had a couple of inches on Saturday) with Baba when he woke up.  And so, when he slept upstairs, I was watching TV downstairs, sprawled on the couch tucked under the razai.  After a while, I was nodding off.  An hour or so later, I heard a door opening upstairs, followed by the sound of little feet scampering down the stairs.  In a couple of seconds, he was running towards me.  Face flushed from having woken from a deep, deep sleep.  Hair tousled, dog clenched tightly in hand.  Big eyes, and a big grin as he sees me.  Even as I start to greet him, he jumps on the couch and starts to get under the razai next to me.  And so, as I flip the channel to PBS Kids, where his favourite Curious George is on, we settle into a comfortable silence.  He, Dog and I are snuggled comfortably under the comforter, his head resting on my chest, his hair smelling of baby shampoo.  Peace engulfed me, and I thought it could not get any better.  Until it did.  Until, a minute into both of us silently watching George monkeying around, he turns his head to look up at me, with his big beautiful puppy dog eyes, and says, "Mamma".  "What is it Puttu?", I say.  He smiles and says, "I cozy". (he pronounced it "koshee")

This, is what its really all about.  Kairos.

My Dear Baby

This was a beautiful poem I found on the Internet when I knew I was having Nayan.  Cannot believe that that was four years ago.  I remember he was just a couple of months away from arriving, and this poem really touched my heart when I read it.  It pretty much said everything I was actually feeling at the time.  Putting it down here for posterity.  Not sure who the author is, but pretty sure it must be a mother of another darling little boy somewhere.

My Dear Baby,

I loved you from the very start,
You stole my breath, embraced my heart.
Our life together has just begun,
You're part of me my little one.

As mother with child, each day I grew,
My mind was filled with thoughts of you.
I'd daydream of the things we'd share,
Like late-night bottles and teddy bears.
Like first steps and skinned knees,
Like bedtime stories and ABC's.

I thought of things you'd want to know,
Like how birds fly and flowers grow.
I thought of lessons I'd need to share,
Like standing tall and playing fair.

When I first saw your precious face,
I prayed your life be touched with grace.
I thanked the angels from above,
And promised you unending love.

Each night I lay you down to sleep,
I gently kiss your head and cheek.
I count your little fingers and toes;
I memorize your eyes and nose.
I linger at your nursery door,
And each day I love you more.
Through misty eyes, I dim the light,
I whisper "I Love You" every night.

I loved you from the very start,
You stole my breath, embraced my heart.
As mother and child our journey's begun,
My heart's yours forever, my little one.

toys? or not....

I'm realizing that all N needs to entertain himself are a few stones, a couple of sticks, some mud, a pail of water and some dried leaves.  He occupied himself with some imagined project with these items for about an hour today, giving a constant running commentary on what he was doing, while I sat on a chair nearby and day dreamed.  Makes me wonder why I bother buying him expensive toys.  Sticks and stones seem to do the job just fine.  Guess millions of children around the world who don't have toys entertain themselves in just that way...

Wonder what it would take if we were to simplify our adult world cluttered with so much paraphernalia in the same way?  Simplify?  Yes, I would love to do it...but where do I start?

for you, my baby

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

~Bob Dylan

Terrific Threes??

What I'm discovering about three year olds...

~ I was stressed silly by folks who have kids three years and older that kids go through the "terrible two's" and simply enter the "horrible threes".  I could not imagine the terrible-ness getting any terribler, and hence the stress, BUT, what do you know - my three year old has decided (at least for now) that he will not trod the trodden path.  He is indeed turning into a darling little delight.  Gone are the tantrums, the without-rhyme-nor-reason fits of "whatever you say, the answer is No"...:-). What are my chances of this lasting?

~ A three year old's mind is a veritable sponge.  It will absorb anything and everything you put in front of it.  Lap it up.  Store it away.  Bring it up later.  Hold you to it.

~ It is possible (finally!) to reason with a three year old.  Language is such a powerful tool.  You can use it to explain.  The three year old's vocabulary and understanding of the world around him is exponentially incremental to a two year old's, and it is possible to explain to him for instance why you will not give him a cookie before dinner. Of course he will buy whatever explanation you give him.

~ A three year old gets the concept of "later".  Amazingly, a two year old does not.

~ You need to say a new word once, and he will hear it and imitate it almost exactly.  And so, you better watch what you say when he's within earshot.

~ The sense of independence is so much, much more than before.  "Mamma, I do it"  is a phrase that repeats itself over and over again.

~ A three year old is prone to peer pressure.  He does not want to be left out of something the group is doing.  He wants to fit in.  Even if it is outside his comfort zone.  Amazing.

~ A three year old's brain will figure out cause and effect.  Often, by you helping to explain it, but many times, by observation, and by trial and error.

~ A three year old's attention span is now several minutes at a time, instead of several seconds as was the case previously.  :-)

~ A three year old (at least mine) is a social animal.  He wants to engage with people, and is curious to interact with them.  Gone is the baby-hood stranger anxiety.  Now even strangers are potential friends.  That means I have to start figuring out how to drill it into him to beware of just that.

~ And finally, yes, finally, the much awaited, much dreaded "Why" phase has begun.  Lord have mercy. :-))

Three!

Three years of amazement.  Of sleepless nights.  Of first moments.  First steps.  First words.  Of ups and downs.  Of laughter and joy.  Of exhaustion and doubt.  Of guilt.  Of unending fun.  Of responsibility like never before.  Of sacrifices.  Of tears of happiness.  Of unending smiles.  Of innocence.  Of seeing yourself in his eyes.  Of love, way more than you thought you were capable of.  Of realizations that there is way more to come...

Happy third birthday to my sweet little boy.

my investment

There are many times when I feel on the older side of the time continuum.  To be fair, I am not a defeatist, nor do I feel old and worn out.  I'm usually fairly full of energy and always have a long list of things to do, always look to the future, always plan what's next, how best to use my time, what's the next thing I want to accomplish, etc. etc.  I am usually not happy resting on something that I have achieved, I am constantly looking to see what "else" I need to get done.  A nice side effect of this is that I seldom feel my years. :-).  Ok, I'm not that old anyway, but I do look at the facts, and I see that quite a few years have gone by.  There are times, when I look back at the years and wonder where the time has gone.  There are so many things that I will never ever do again, simply because they are not age appropriate anymore.  So many things are in my past now, and I can only re-live them in my memories.  Which is fine, for the most part.  Except that, at a very human level, sometimes, there is that longing to be really young again.  For those truly were the best days of my life (isn't it true for most people?).  My childhood, my teenage years, college days, my twenties....I have lived my life through these years, with all the usual ups and downs...and here I am now, with no way of going back.....except....through N.  And so it hits me, like a most refreshing feeling, that I now will get to re-live everything through him.  He is my legacy.  He is my future.  He is the investment I make now so that life might come a full, full circle.

I count my blessings, and put him at the very top of that list.

He's a growing boy, it seems

I had a big time problem when they said N had 'graduated' from being an infant to a toddler around his first birthday.  Ok, yes, that's me, so please stop laughing.  My baby, the sweet infant with all his baby innocence, now a toddler?  Ok, whatever.  I had just about come to terms with that.  With his toddler-hood came the terrible two's and every other delightful thing we as parents could possibly come across (oh and by the way, the sleepless nights didn't stop).  I was kind of still grappling with 'toddler' and now they tell me that he's no longer one.  He's supposedly a 'pre-schooler' now!  What!!  School? Pre-school? My N?

Where has the time gone?  And have I captured enough of those memories?  As I look at some of his baby pictures, with the layers of baby fat around his sweet face that have now disappeared to make way for more handsome defined 'pre-schooler' features, and as I fold and store away yet another piece of clothing because it does not fit him anymore, a little fraction of my heart is broken...again.

trials of parenting

The past week has been hard.  Hard on us, for sure, but harder on N.  He's pulling through and the natural resilience of childhood will help him endure - the pain, the anxiety and the stress of the moment.  And soon, he'll be back bouncing off the walls once more, this painful incident forgotten.  He's so young now, years from now, he will not even remember this.

The real trial is for us.  Parenting has been one big guilt trip.  Are we doing enough? Are we giving enough? Are we planning enough, are we providing enough?  Always doubting whether we can be doing something better, even though we are giving a 110% of all that is possible. 

And it is so even in this case.  No amount of sleep deprivation, anxiety, planning, taking infinite amounts of time off from work, etc seem to have been enough to deal with the stress, to deal with the guilt of having put him through this.  N has taken more than the stipulated time to recover, and his pain and stress are enough to elevate ours to extremely high levels.  While maintaining sanity and calm outwards for his sake, it has taken its toll.  I'm exhausted and cranky myself.  And yet, I have to stay focused.  Yet, I have to be mom.  That job never ends. 

Cannot wait for next week.