Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

This year we had a quiet Christmas. I didn't bake a cake, and the day didn't begin with appam and stew. Nevertheless, the family got together at night, with everyone bringing something to the table; duck, fish, chicken, salad, bread rolls, flavored rice, and dal followed by a lemon and coconut pudding and a coffee pudding. Before this feast, we sat together, sang a few carols, watched Adiv dance to Jingle Bells, had a Bible reading, and prayed. The kids were all given presents. Adiv was most thrilled.

Adiv's Christmas began the day the stars came up in the building. He was fascinated by them. The excitement doubled, when his grand uncle showed him the picture of a Santa Claus. From then on, he only watched videos of Tantaku (Santa) and spoke about him. He thought Jingle Bells was the "coolest" song ever, and always jumped up to shake to its beat. Then on Christmas eve, we had to get the kids presents, and we landed up in a mall. As soon as we got there, we saw huge crowds gather at the atrium. That middle of the mall had been transformed into the north pole, and on a sleigh sat Santa. He smiled, posed for pictures with the kids, and gave them sweets.

"Tantakooooo, come", yelled a very excited Adiv. We immediately got him a ticket and waited his turn. When his turn came, he smilled happily and settled down on Santa's lap. When Santa brought out his sac of sweets, he put both hands in and took as many as he could. Then I took a few pictures, ignoring the Forum photographer who suggested that I pose with Santa as well. After the pictures, we picked out goodie bag from Nilgiris, and got to Landmark. We snaked our way in to find books and toys, before we suddenly spotted a dancing Santa. He danced towards kids in the store, posing for pictures and giving out presents. A few excited parents threw their frightened children towards this famished, tamil speaking Santa, just so they could get a picture. Santa obliged by smiling and holding on to the writhing child. Then Adiv ran forward, pushed away a frightened child and danced to the tunes of Jingle bells. Both Santa and Adiv danced, and Adiv got his present. Saying bye, we moved to another section in the store. Finally when the bill was being paid, we saw Santa again. Adiv ran to him blowing kisses. Santa smiled, obliged with another jig, and gave him ANOTHER present. The day had gone well. It was perfected by a pair of shades from Liliput that Adiv begged for (and got). He now zooms across rooms on his cycle, wearing these shades.

*

New Year, was more tiring. We were in Cochin for an engagement, and quite anxious about trying out the Cochin specials. Unfortunately, Ro ended up with a tummy upset, but that didn't deter little Adiv. He danced to the tunes of some popular mallu songs and the Vengaboys (remember, "I'm going to Ibiza?") and welcomed in the New year. Otherwise we pretty much spent our time with visits to family members in the city.

Now that the excitement has this holiday season as ended, Adiv is now preparing for the next big event; his 2nd birthday. So he spends a lot of time strumming his version of the Happy Birthday song on Ro's guitar, singing, "Happy to you...Adi"! Life sure is exciting when you are two!:)

The family that wasn't us

They got my attention, when the unusually tall and skinny mother with a saree draped around her sinewy frame rummaged through the contents of her bag and brought out an aging sippy cup. What was possibly handed down generations, the sippy cup bore tell tale signs of an earlier era. She placed it on the food tray, where it made futile attempts at balancing, before dropping to the ground. The father picked it up immediately and placed it firmly on the tray again. This time, the sippy cup slid to the side, and nestled itself between the tray and back of the chair in front. It was then picked up the next minute, and given to their 1-year-old who drank from it.
I was shocked, amused even. It couldn't be clean enough for a toddler. I wrapped a protective arm around my bag, that carried two clean tupperware bottles with Adiv's sterilized water. The bag also had some fruit and biscuits. I didn't want him trying out train food.
Making sure I had everything for the journey, I turned my attention to the family again. The man had just bought his young family cups of coffee. The sippy cup was emptied, and train coffee was poured into it, for the toddler to drink.
"They've given their baby coffee", I whispered into Ro's ears.
He smiled
The little one took a few joyous sips, before diverting her attention to her older brother. He was fighting with his father over a packet of Lays chips. Just then, an attender walked by with bottles of fizzy drinks. The father picked a bottle of fanta that his son pounced on. The baby began whining for it, when the sippy cup was emptied again and filled with some fanta. Adiv who is never allowed any fizzy drinks began asking for juice. Luckily I'd come armed with orange juice, and he was temperorily satisfied.
The next few hours went by peacefully. Adiv befriended a group of young boys, and they began some amusing games. The family next to us, settled down for a nap. From time to time they bought their kids samosas and vadas soaked in oil. After each snack, the toddler's face was carefully wiped with the curtain. They seemed fine, but I was sceptical. I was careful about Adiv's food. And his face cloth was always washed and ironed. However, these kids who were taking in all the train food and water that wasn't sterilized seemed hardy and well. They were even talking on their father's mobiles, something that Adiv isn't allowed, for fear of all the damage it can cause.
Just then it hit me....contrary to all the illusions I had about what a cool, easy going mom I was, I was just a very paranoid one! Anyway, till Adiv gets older, that's how it is going to be.

Cheeeese!

In Remembrance

After a very brief stint in hospital, Dada (Ro's father) passed away last week, leaving family and friends in a state of shock. He wasn't sick or bedridden. An active 68-year-old who loved to read, explore, and listen to Englebert Humperdink, he was rushed into hospital with severe chest congestion. As soon as he got to the hospital, his heart went into cardiac arrest, and he was shifted to the ICU. What followed were a series of very trying days. His heart had stopped for three minutes, and the doctors warned the family about possible brain damage. The kidneys weren't functioning properly either. Nevertheless, the family held on to every ray of hope. Prayers were said allover, and we were optimistic about his recovery. Then when he was conscious, he strengthed our faith by recognizing his family and proving the doctors wrong. He communicated with gestures, and seemed positive. Doctors were amazed at his recovery, and soon they were talking about how he'd be discharged very soon. We continued to pray. We made promises of having a huge celebration when he recovered.
Last Tuesday night, Ro called me at 3 in the morning to say that his BP dropped to 50/30. We prayed! We couldn't give up just yet. Contrary to what the doctors had feared, his brain was still alert. Now God would heal him completely. We believed He would. On Wednesday morning, the situation continued to be grim. His BP dropped further, and finally the dreaded call came. Dada was no more.
Adiv and I (with my parents) were in Bangalore then, and we took the next flight to Hyderabad. The next few days went in a daze. The funeral was the toughest, but the family pulled through. Their faith kept them going. They believed that maybe God had wanted this, though there seemed to be no logical explanation for why he'd gone so soon. They merely took solace in the fact that he hadn't suffered for too long.
His absence hit us the most in the days that followed. We wondered about how life would never be the same for his immediate family. Christmas would never be the same without his perfect lining of the cake tin with butter paper. Presents would never be the same without his skill at wrapping them. The crossword in the paper would never be filled by him again. A walker that Ro had ordered for him, would never be used by him. Ro and his sister would forever miss his quiet, strong presence.
I knew him the least, but I knew his passing would be a loss to Adiv. Adiv would never know of his intellect and simplicity. He would only hear tales of a grandfather who had all the answers, and barely remember the numerous outtings he took with him. During the funeral, I reminiced about the times I'd spent with Dada. He was a very quiet man, but we'd had a few fun conversations in the past. He didn't say a lot, but he was always very sensitive and considerate; like cheering me up with chocolates when I was the new bride, upset about leaving family to go to London.
*
A few days after the funeral, we had a beautiful memorial service for Dada. Family and friends gathered to talk about the man they all admired and loved. I got to know him so much more after this service. I wished I'd known him better. However, he'd gone, teaching us one of life's biggest lessons ; we had to appreciate every minute of what life had to offer. We could never be sure of tomorrow, so we had to live today and appreciate all those who were in our lives.
The family said their goodbyes with this very appropriate hymn..
Ever remembered
Fading away like the stars of the morning,
Losing their light in the glorious sun;
So let me steal away, gently and lovingly,
Only remembered by what I have done.

Refrain
Ever remembered, forever remembered,
Ever remembered while the years are rolling on,
Ever remembered, forever remembered,
Only remembered by what I have done.

So let my name and my place be forgotten,
Only my life-race be patiently run;
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently,
Only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

So, in the harvest, if others may gather,
Sheaves from the fields that in spring I have sown,
Who plowed or sowed matters not to the reaper -
I'm only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

Fading away like the stars of the morning,
So let my name be unhonored, unknown,
Here, or up yonder, I must be remembered,
Only remembered by what I have done. Refrain

Bottoms Up

With Ro out of town (in-laws unwell), Adiv and I found ourselves alone for a day and night, before my parents arrived. Not in the least bit apprehensive, I saw Ro off telling him we'd be just fine. So after he left, the routine went on as usual. We went to school, did some shopping, came back, took a nap, and then I decided to do some cooking. I put Adiv with his toys and made frequent trips between the kitchen and bedroom. Everything seemed okay. Adiv hadn't yet asked for Ro, and I promised him an outting after my cooking was done. Then I went to stir something on the gas. When I returned, I found Adiv on the bed with a bottle of his cold medicine. It was open, and empty! Fear tugged my heart. Had he drunk it up? I found a lot poured on the bedspread, but I still wasn't sure if he'd had any. If he had, how much? How did he get the bottle that I thought was far away from his reach? What do I do?
Calming down for a second, I decided to call a pediatrician who is available on the phone. He barked instructions on the phone. "Get him to throw up. Give him salt water, put your finger in, and tickle his throat. I ran to the kitchen, got some warm salt water and tried to get him to drink it. "No", he screamed angrily. Then I put my hand in to get him to puke. He resisted by biting my finger. I continued to try. After a few failed attempts, I called the doctor again. This time he was annoyed.
"How can you give up? What kind of mother are you? If he doesn't throw up, he has to go to the doctor and get his stomach flushed."
By now, I was in tears. I was scared, and someone screaming at me didn't help. I made more attempts to get Adiv to throw up. No luck. We both cried. I was scared and he was angry.
Wondering what I should do next, I called an aunt who I knew would understand the state I was in, and act calmly and quickly. She came immediately, and said we'd just have to observe Adiv. She'd spoken to some doctor friends and they said if he wasn't unsually drowsy, he'd be fine. Afterall it was only baby's medicine. It couldn't be dangerous. However if he was drowsy and not his usual self, we'd have to rush him to hospital. Adiv by then was running around and playing. When my aunt arrived, he welcomed her with a smile and showed her new additions to the house since her last visit.
"Sinx", he said pointing to a teeny Sphinx that his grand uncle brought us all the way from Egypt.
Then he flaunted his helmet, his riding skills, and eventually begged for some crisps.
"He seems perfectly okay", my aunt assured me.
I was also quite sure that he was okay. However, we'd have to watch. In the meantime the floodgates were let open. I wept; mostly because I was relieved. I prayed he'd continue to be fine. "Let it all out", said my aunt. "You'll feel better."
Meanwhile Adiv cycled from room to room.
Then my aunt suggested I go stay at her place. I agreed immediately. I had to return the next morning before the maid arrived, so I took my car. Adiv was buckled up in the car seat, and we drove to my aunt's house. When we got there, Adiv was welcomed to the sight of all my aunt's grandson's toys. He loved his car, the talking Elmo, a teddy bear as big as him, and the lawn to run on. He explored, played, ate his dinner, and eventually slept tired. The day had ended on a happy note. He was happy, and we were quite sure he hadn't drunk any of the medicine. I was exhausted from all the worrying. Nevertheless, I was happy. I made a mental note of all that I'd have to lock away with a key; medicines, harpic, washing liquid....!I had to now prepare for this curious toddler, who would explore and try to get his hands on anything and everything. For now I was just glad that he was okay. I made my last call to Rohit who had been quite worried. Then I lay down thanking God for watching over little Adiv.

The toughest part of motherhood is letting go! Nevertheless, feigning some courage, I drove Adiv to school today. He was happy. He ran in smiling looking for aunty, little knowing that I'd been asked to wait outside.
"He is friendly. He'll be fine. And he loves the teacher", the principal assured me.
They asked me to return at 1, but I decided to hang around outside. Apprehensive, I walked to the car, tried reading a book, sent Ro nervous sms messages, and kept checking the time. Half an hour later, I decided to peek in. I knocked at the door. The minute it was opened, I heard his voice.
"Mimiiii..Dadaaaaa..", he wailed.
I rushed in, and picked him up! The teacher wasn't very pleased. She argued that if i kept coming in, he'd never get over this fear.
I argued the whole point of this toddler program was that the parent would be allowed to sit in. She pointed to the older kids, some happy, some weepy. I pointed to Adiv and reminded her that they were a lot older than he was.
*
Ro and I share similar views on schooling. I'd chosen to be a stay-at-home mom, so I'd be around for him. Unlike a lot of working parents who had little choice, Adiv didn't need to be booted off to school early. Some argue that these kids cry and eventually get over it. I argue, why put him in school early and upset him. Adiv has always been a friendly happy child, and we weren't over-ambitious parents who wanted him to start school earlier than necessary. However, when I heard about the toddler program, I thought it would be fun. They'd let me sit in, and he'd get to interact with other kids and develop some social skills.
The first two days were good. He seemed to like his teacher, and was having fun in the confines of a room with a teacher, an aayah, the pink toddler, and me. Today when I peeked inside, the scenario was quite different. I found the room filled with older kids. The pink toddler sat on the aayah's lap with a toy, the teacher was busy with the older kids, and Adiv was stuck to the door crying. I was livid. Ofcourse it broke my heart seeing him weep. Nevertheless, I was angry that they had put him with the older kids who were learning alphabets. They tried explaining it to me by saying he was smart and therefore ready for an older class. I told them quite clearly that I wanted him to have fun with kids his age. I didn't want him in a class with older kids, feeling lost and lonely. I wanted him to learn in his own pace. I wasn't going to force any ambition on him.
I'm not sure they got the point, but I walked out with him. I said I'd return the next day and sit in with him till he got comfortable there.
Adiv cried himself to sleep in his car seat. I drove back worried! Adiv is a happy, intelligent young boy, and I didn't want anything to scare him. Tomorrow is a day I'm dreading, but I have to make my point clear just once more. Unlike a lot of parents who were preparing toddlers for a rat race, Ro and I are quite content just letting him do things at his own pace. For now I merely want him to play, make new friends, and learn something. I don't want a baby sitter for 2 hours.
Praying tomorrow is a better day for us both!

First day at school

Armed with a bag carrying some water, my wallet, a book (in case of free time), and a snack, I walked past the school gates. Like all newcomers, I was a wee bit apprehensive, but very eager to make new friends. The teacher who was seeing off the previous batch of students, smiled and ushered us into a room filled with cars, balls, hand puppets, and several montessori kits. Adiv's first day began well.
Unlike a lot of preschoolers who were weeping piteously, the toddlers were allowed to bring in their mommies. So I sat down gingerly on one small chair, praying I'd not break it. Adiv chose a green chair for himself, before climbing off to examine the cars and the little animals. Picking one he proudly announced, "Car"! When that generated some clapping, he picked a cow and said very emphatically, "cow"! Then he went on to identify the "Bow wow", the "meow", and the "deer" (Deeya), before diverting his attention to the differently sized cars.
"Vrooooom vrooooom", the car rushed across the floor.
"Big car..there..door", he bragged to the indulgent teacher.
By then he'd decided he liked his teacher. He wasn't sure what he could call her. Since she was wearing trousers and a short top, he went with "Chichi" (chechi).
"I'm aunty", she said. So after that, he was his aunty's tail. He flaunted his language skills, opened and closed doors for her, and flashed her some endearing smiles.
The only other toddler present was a younger girl in pink. A true gentleman, Adiv showed her all the toys. "Babeee...take", he said offering her all her toys. Inbetween he looked to us for signs of approval. The teacher and I clapped, and he got even more generous. This lasted till the aayah brought out a rocking elephant.
"Ingyaaa" (his word for elephant) he screamed, hurrying to climb on to it.
"Baby's turn first", said the teacher. "Adiv, you'll get your turn."
He waited patiently, pointing to the elephant's eyes saying, "aaayee".
"eeyaa" (ears).
Soon he'd lost all his patience. "Auntee..turn", he enquired. The teacher smiled and let him have his turn. After that all chivalry was dead. He refused to budge, and the pink toddler had to be distracted with other knick knacks.
Eventually he lost interest and settled for some basketball. Everytime he missed the basket, he'd scream, "Oh noooo." Two minutes of that, and then his attention was on the handpuppets (owls).
"Auntee..owww", he said.
"Very good Adiv. Did you see the owl in the zoo?"
"Zoozoo...aaaaah", he said grinning reminicing about the zoozoo ads he loves watching on youtube.
Then the montessori kits were brought out. After stacking a few circles one on top of the other, he lost interest again. The pink toddler sat patiently with it.
During snack time I brought out neatly cut apples. They'd browned a bit, so he said, "darty" and took one. The pink toddler began begging for some. I asked the teacher if I could give her an apple, but she said they didn't encourage sharing between toddlers because different kids were allowed different things to eat.
"Get her snack", the teacher said. The pink toddler's mother had packed cream biscuits for her. Adiv immediately threw away his apple and began eyeing the cream biscuits.
"No bikkis now", i said. . Luckily, it was time to leave. The promise of leaving by car distracted Adiv who was "vrooooooming" again. He blew kisses at everyone, said elaborate byes (bey bey) and we left!
So his first day was very satisfying! He enjoyed himself, and now I'm getting ready for day two. Maybe I'll take two biscuits (just in case)...and some fruit!:)