No wasted words

          Most mornings, I drop Arjun off in a cul-de-sac from where he can walk down to his school.  This is a very popular drop-off area for many parents and as such, the intersections are somewhat chaotic with cars stopping and kids crossing the streets. One recent morning, as we approached the last intersection, I noticed his good friend Victor crossing the road in front of us. I was a bit surprised since we had never encountered Victor over the 8 months that I had been dropping Arjun off at that spot - and you tend to see the same cars and students almost everyday. I exclaimed, "Hey, Victor is here too!" But there was no reaction from Arjun - he didn't respond or make any attempt to catch up to his friend. Now, I was not entirely surprised by this - Arjun is a somewhat phlegmatic sort, not given to idle persiflage (I had promised Abhi some Wodehousian flourishes in this blog).  Even figuring out what projects and homework are due on any given day is a diabolical variation of Twenty Questions - eliciting Yes/No responses is hard enough, but you also need to judge the reliability of each response.  I just shrugged off his apparent lack of enthusiasm.
Then, remarkably, the same thing happens the very next day: I see Victor crossing the street in front of us at the exact same spot. I go: "Wow, there is Victor again!" Again, not a peep from Arjun - he just sort gives me a look. I am a little miffed now - isn't he carrying this don't care, indifferent teenager act a bit too far? I continued: "All these months I have been dropping you here and we never once see Victor.  Then two days in a row we see him in the exact place - that's a crazy coincidence!  Don't you think?"  Still not so much as a shoulder shrug from Arjun - just a look.  Now I begin to think that he is just messing with me - maybe this is not a surprise for him?  I go: "Unless you guys planned this! Is that what's going on?" I was feeling a bit clever as well for having figured it out - this would explain it all! It seemed like I had finally hit a nerve  - Arjun turned towards me and in a calm drawl: "Well...that's not Victor. So..."

"NOT Victor? Why didn't you tell me yesterday itself? Why did you let me keep thinking it was Victor?"

"Well, I kept expecting you to figure it out yourself."

Turns out Victor takes the bus to school and the chance of encountering him anywhere else was exactly zero.  

One More From Abhi

The little guy doth talk a lot - almost non-stop at times. You resort to strong arm tactics to get some respite and very soon you are missing the chatter and find the silence deafening. And then you start seeking ways to get them talking again without losing face. Just one of the many parenting traps.

Ok, back to the story.  BTW, a little knowledge of colloquial Hindi may be required to "get" this one.

Malini was putting the boys to sleep - the usual routine being to read to Abhi (while Arjun reads his book), and then turn off the lights and lie down with them until they drift off to sleep. Of course, most often Malini is the one who falls asleep first and has to be woken up later. Anyway, the reading was done and the light was off, but Abhi would not stop chatting. It was just one question after the other. Finally, in exasperation, Malini exclaimed, "Arre mere baap, just sleep already!" Of course, Abhi immediately wanted to know what that meant - What is "mere baap?" Malini gave the literal translation ("my father") and then added, "Ok, now go to sleep." Promptly came the reply from Abhi: "Why should I listen to you? I am your father!"

Rite of Passage

"Not looking good." That was the thought that went through my head as we walked up to the Canyonside Park for Arjun's first ever Little League game. Surveying the kids playing there gave me the sinking feeling that Arjun was singularly under prepared. He had the wrong pants (the coach had said gray, but we had bought white and then substituted with an almost-gray track pant), he didn't have a helmet, and most importantly, he was clearly the only kid without a glove. He had reluctantly brought along his recently acquired T-ball bat, which looked rather pitiful compared to the kit bags that some other kids were toting. And we had no clue who the coach was.
Fighting my discomfort of such situations, I asked around and eventually found the coach. Pleasant fellow by the name of Matt. First thing I had to tell him was that Arjun has no glove and wondered if there was a spare one. None could be found immediately and Malini was almost heading to Target to buy one when another one of the parent coaches came by with a rather large one. Silly as it may sound, I didn't really know how to pull it on (a baseball fielder's glove is rather unique in that your hand only enters the lowest portion). Thankfully it was so big that Arjun was just able to put his hand into it. Then came the trickier part - catching with the glove. The kids were lined up in two groups and asked to throw to each other and sure enough, Arjun was having a hard time. He didn't know how to squeeze the ball and all he could try was to do a basket catch (essentially, you hold the glove face-up like a basket and hope that the ball lands inside and doesn't bounce out). Even this wasn't going too well and he got conked on his chin with a ball - no joke considering that they were playing with regular hard balls. However, it was soon obvious that most kids were pretty bad - even the well equipped ones - and I began to relax a bit. Still, I went up to Matt and told him that Arjun had never caught with a glove before. He was unfazed and said that he would spend some extra time with him.
Eventually all the practice time was over and it was time to play a real game. Coach announced the lineup and initial fielding positions (the kids would change during each inning) and Arjun seemed to be sidelined. And then it seemed like he was going to have really important position - catcher! The assistant coach started kitting him out with all the required padding and positioned him behind the hitter. Malini was uncertain what this move meant, but felt reassured that with all the padding he would at least be safe from the ball. The game started and Arjun's team (The Timber Rattlers) were fielding. Arjun was standing well behind the hitter, almost all the way to the back boards. There seemed to be no discernible purpose to having a catcher - all he did was to collect the passed balls and pile them up to be thrown back to the pitcher's mound. The whole outfit was a little constricting and severely hampered his mobility. Eventually, he got tired of standing and went into a crouch and looked a bit more like a regular catcher - not that he was doing any catching of course.
Then it was their turn to bat and they sent Arjun fourth or fifth. He was a bit tentative at first, but then all his baseball watching and playing with Abhi kicked in and he started making some good swings. Actually, to be accurate they were very good golf swings, but at his level it was just fine. He made good contact on one, but only succeeded in popping it up to the one kid who could actually catch. Still not too shabby.
The next inning he was fielding at third base and clearly getting more into the swing of things. When his turn came up to bat in the bottom of the second (the entire team gets to bat in each inning), he got his first ever hit and trotted happily to first base. And remarkably, this continued and he got a hit in every inning (going 4 for 5) and was rather decent in the field as well. Sure, he let the ball go through his legs when he was in right field (pretty much par for the course), but he also fielded a few balls cleanly and threw out a couple of runners.
Turns out watching a bunch of really keen 6-8 year olds playing baseball rather badly is a pleasant and indeed mildly amusing way to spend a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon. They are happy to make contact and chase behind the ball with abandon, but once they have the ball they often don't quite know what to do. It certainly helped that all the parents and coaches were really relaxed about the whole thing and were rather enjoying themselves as well. Abhi was a bit disappointed by the casual air and lack of professionalism - he commented to Malini that this was not like they play on TV. He had had high hopes - as we drove to the park, he asked, "Which stadium is Aeta going to play in?" No doubt expecting the answer to be something like Petco Park. Still he was excited to see Arjun play and as usual provided us with slow motion replays of what just happened on the field.

After the game I went up to the coach and inquired if we needed to get anything more than a glove. He was very complimentary of Arjun's efforts and commented that he couldn't believe that Arjun had never played before. Even without this my trepidation about Arjun's first little league game had long since eased - strangely, this had been at the back of mind ever since the ultrasound told us we were going to have a boy! But Arjun was a real gamer - he really wanted to play (he was the one who asked Malini to sign him up) and he didn't let anything bother him - the lack of equipment, being hit by balls, or being trussed up like a gladiator and asked to catch. Normally we have to drag him (sometimes kicking and screaming) for any extra curricular activities. This was clearly different. As he sleepily headed off to sleep, he said, "I can't wait for next Sunday so I can play baseball again."

The Tooth Fairy

Arjun stirred as I carefully lifted his pillow and searched around for the little plastic baggie in which he had saved the first tooth that he had lost earlier that day. I was playing tooth fairy, but with a mild sense of unease. I removed the tooth and replaced it with five 1-dollar bills, feeling at once a sense of satisfaction from fulfilling an expected role and a disquiet from the con (albeit harmless) I was perpetuating.

In the morning I pretended to be amazed at the generosity of the tooth fairy (Arjun had rather doubtfully expected one or two dollars the previous night) and congratulated him on his find. An unexpected (but not altogether surprising) effect was Abhi being upset that he hadn't gotten anything and bursting into tears. I pacified him by contributing a dollar to his (broken) piggy bank. Arjun was pretty stoked by the whole thing but I wasn't feeling particularly thrilled.

Looking into Arjun's trusting eyes, all round with the wonder of it all as he recounted how the tooth fairy had taken away his tooth, I really had to question why we did this. As adults we tend to tell many little lies to kids, rationalizing that it is all for their benefit: either they get some comfort from it or they just can't handle the truth. One common situation this occurs is when kids go on their endless "why" questions spree. I learned quickly that what I was comfortable with was to give them the most truthful answer that I could. And if I couldn't explain it to their level (or satisfaction) then that is exactly what I would tell them - that I cannot explain it any better. This eliminates the need to remember what I had told them and having to answer the question, "But why did you tell me that...?" At the same time, I do believe that childhood is a magical time that never comes back and I don't want to be one of those humorless parents who insist on exposing their kids to the "realities of life" (in their estimation) as early as possible. And so, I continue to push the fantasy of Santa and now the Tooth Fairy.

Maybe I am making too much of this and there is no significant impact from these little lies, but I cannot help thinking that every time a child realizes that he or she had been subject to a deception, some trust is lost. It is not the sort of stuff that leads to therapy sessions or even resentment (at least I hope not), but there is still a loss. But then, maybe that is what growing up is all about: taking off the rose colored glasses.

At least in this case, the matter resolved itself. In the evening, I received a call from Malini - apparently, Arjun had found out from his friend Suraj that it was no tooth fairy that had placed the money under his pillow, but instead it was me. He was upset and confused. As is his wont, he was in tears and asked if the tooth fairy did not take his tooth, then who did? And what would happen to all the teeth? Malini consoled him and said that we would talk after I came back home. Eventually we decided that it was best to just explain the truth and not prolong the deception. It turned out to be fine - he accepted the explanation and didn't seem terribly put out. He was happy to get his tooth back - apparently what had bothered him was not the actual lack of existence of a tooth fairy, but that given this fact, there was no good explanation to what had happened to his tooth. And so goes another little rite of passage through childhood. I am thinking that, at least in our house, Santa's days are numbered.

Limits

Arjun has always been a bit more interested in music than I think is average (he once requested a specific Bob Dylan song), but Abhi is a bit more derivative in his interests - usually, keying off what Arjun, Malini, or I like. With "Rock-On" it was different though - both boys firmly took possession of the album and Abhi, in particular would hum garbled phrases from the songs throughout the day. One line (from the title song) in particular used to puzzle me a great deal. He would go: "Hurlum Huppukkara." Now, I am the guy who sang, "Samjota Samose Kar Lo" instead of "Samjota Gumon Se Kar Lo" so who was I to throw stones? I finally asked Malini what Abhi was trying to say. Turned out the line is "Har Lamha Yehe Pukara."

Arjun is a lot more catholic in his musical taste - tolerating, and even enjoying almost anything I would play for him - Jazz, Carnatic, Hindi film music, and of course, ghazals. Abhi, on the other hand is a lot less tolerant of all this non-kid friendly music and doesn't hesitate to express his displeasure. While driving him to school every morning, if its not the Eagles (specifically, Hotel California, which he can listen to on a loop), it better be some kid's music. Of course, he is equally happy, if not happier, if I turn off the music and answer his questions about the cars next to us or specific situations that might arise in an NFL game.

Even so, I thought he was getting indoctrinated what with Malini also playing Ghulam Ali songs almost incessantly at home. Then one night I was trying to put the boys to sleep. Our normal modus operandi for this is to lie down with them, read them each their book selections, and then turn off the lights and fall asleep - there is no use pretending to do so - I tried that once and opened my eyes to find Abhi staring at me from about 2 inches away checking on me. Since sleep does not come that easily, I take requests for songs and they are usually some rhymes. On this night, I proposed a ghazal and Arjun agreed. Abhi demurred and then changed his mind - ghazal was ok with him. Invoking my best Ghulam Ali, I started:
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara...
Hum ko kiske gum ne mara... (repeating the opening line as in every ghazal rendition).
But, Abhi had already had enough. I was just starting to repeat the line again when he broke in with almost perfect timing: "Is that all you know, acha?"
I burst out laughing and while he had no idea why it was amusing, he took full credit for it and for several days afterwards would ask me to sing this song just so that he could interject with, "Is that all you know, acha?"

Kodak Moments

A blog post with a difference - just a few recent photos.

Abhi and Arjun model some Haloween props that they got as a party favor. With their recent haircuts, its almost hard to tell who is who...













The Ironman and Red Dragon Ninja are all set to go trick-or-treating...












And some selections from a weekend photo shoot at home....

Ghosts, Goblins, & Superheroes

Halloween is upon us and little ghosts and goblins are going to be roaming the neighborhoods demanding a sugar fix. For the past few years, we have made do with 2 costumes - a clown costume that Arjun wore for a couple of years and was then handed down to Abhi for the last two years. In the meantime, Arjun got a race car driver outfit that he has worn for the last two years. The costume required various adjustments to facilitate a better fit and it is only now that Arjun has grown enough to fit in it without any alterations. Of course, he is bored with it now. They both have new costumes for this time - Arjun is going to be 'Ironman' while Abhi is outfitted to be a 'Red Dragon Ninja.' This is a character of rather dubious provenance, but goes well with Abhi's recent closely cropped haircut. He could join Robinhood's gang with nary a raised eyebrow.

We got the costumes on Monday and they have been wearing it every night till it is time for bed. They can hardly wait to go out trick-or-treating. In fact, on Monday they were almost too excited to fall asleep, all in anticipation of Halloween night. Abhi's costume has a lot of loose folds and today we discovered that it fits Arjun just fine (& in fact probably actually has the intended look) - this is going to a be first for us - a hand-me-up: next year, Arjun can be the Red Dragon Ninja.

Arjun likes Pomegranate juice and I had bought the big bottle from Costco upon his request. Couple of days ago, I was pouring the last of it for myself. Abhi, who was drinking his milk was apparently following this closely and called out, "Why did you finish that, acha?"
Me (somewhat confused, since Abhi is not a big juice drinker): "Why, do you want some?"
Abhi: "No, but aeta likes to drink that juice." Arjun who was sitting nearby, nodded his head in confirmation.
I poured the juice back and wondered where this fraternal caring was at other times. Abhi got a pumpkin from his field trip, but has been protesting every suggestion of getting one for Arjun, coming up with one creative reason after another including insisting that Arjun had told him that he does not want a pumpkin. In this case at least, he would rather deny his brother.

Mr. Abhi Goes to School

Despite all their similarities, Arjun and Abhi have very distinct personalities. Arjun is the earnest one, Abhi is the interesting one. Arjun is driven more internally while Abhi is the reactive one. Many of his likes and dislikes seem to suspiciously mirror those of Arjun's. Going to school was no different. Arjun pretty much took to school (both Scripps Montessori and PV Elementary) right away, making friends and being totally involved and dedicated to his school work and activities. He is a bit of a perfectionist (total mystery to us of course) and gets very upset if you try to suggest that he is not doing something the correct way (once again, a big mystery).

Abhi could not wait to start school. He wanted to be just like his "eatta" and given his multiple visits to Arjun's class in Scripps, he was raring to go. The first week was fine and then the glow seemed to vanish. School was not just fun and games. There were lessons to be done and stuff to be learned. You had to repeat the same lesson and even worse, you had to remember what you had been taught. He adopted the tears strategy - as soon as his teacher (Ms Ada) asked him to do a lesson, he would burst into tears. She soon cut back from 3 lessons a day to just one. We would elicit promises from him every morning that he would not cry that day. Ms Ada was rather puzzled because he seemed to pick up stuff pretty quickly. Given his exposure to Arjun's learning and Malini's efforts, he was clearly ahead of where Arjun was when he started.

When I asked him why he didn't want to do the lessons, Abhi said that it was because, "I know I can't do it." Maybe our actions have something to do with this: We would often get upset when Arjun would make mistakes or be slow in doing some of his home work. So this may be Abhi's way of avoiding all that unpleasantness. Of course given that this is Abhi, I wouldn't put it past him to have computed that this is the easier way to get out of doing work!

Through all this, Abhi's natural instincts continued to shine through. Once after a bout of crying he told Ms Ada, "Don't tell my parents I cried. Its our secret." Another time, he asks her,
"What time will my amma pick me up?"
Ada: "11.30."
Abhi: "When will it be 11.30?"
Ada explained how the two clock hands would be positioned at 11.30. Then Abhi asks her:
"Can you please get me a small clock so that I can keep it with me? I want to know when it is 11.30."

Thankfully, things are looking up a bit. He has been better the last few days, going so far as to actually ask for lessons to do. He has worked his way up to 4 lessons a day and seems to enjoy (or at least tolerate) school much more. He would still like to be done though: Yesterday he wanted to know why he could not graduate like Arjun had earlier this year and then supplied the answer on his own: "Because I am not a big boy."
What gives us more cause for hope though is what he did in class yesterday: Out of the blue, he told Ms Ada that he wanted to sing a song for her and then proceeded to sing a made-up song which he refused to divulge to us. Starting to see their teachers as equals to their parents is a big milestone in a kids schooling life. Has Abhi reached that point? Maybe, but we are keeping our fingers crossed.

Abhi Makes Progress

It has been a while since I blogged and it is not for want of things to write about - time has been in short supply. Anyway, I am going to try and get a couple of things out quickly.

Abhi recently achieved a significant milestone - he is riding his bike without training wheels! The purchase of a bigger bike (20") for Arjun seemed to be the trigger and he put aside his hesitation and got it down in a couple of sessions in our local park. Now he is eager to go riding everyday and most evenings both Arjun and Abhi ride to and from our park. It is possible the recently concluded Tour De France had some influence as well. All of us (yes, including Malini) watched each day's race with great interest and the boys absorbed a lot from the coverage and commentary. Just before he managed to ride without his training wheels Abhi would ask if he could ride in the TDF once he learnt to ride. He took to calling himself 'Alberto Contador' and would only respond to that name, but only while he was on the bike. As they ride around in our cul-de-sac, Arjun keeps a constant running commentary going about an imaginary bike race in which he is involved.

Arjun likes Boost in his milk and we ran out last week. So I mixed in some Horlicks for both of them and after some reluctance they both drank it up. When I asked how it was, both replied "good." I was eager to press it home (since we have about 3 kgs of that stuff accumulated), so I asked if they would have it every time with their milk. No response. Arjun was watching a show, so that was understandable - it typically takes a 6.4 earthquake to break his TV focus. I asked again. This time Abhi gives me a considering look and replies, "It is good, but not that good."

One of my pet beefs is the amount of toys all our kids have. This abundance and variety of toys stymies their natural imagination. Notice how much fun kids will have with a cardboard box and some foam pieces if that is all they have to play with. Giving kids a whole bunch of toys has basically the same effect as sticking them in front of Cartoon Network all day long. We pretty much stopped buying toys for the boys about 3 years ago. It doesn't really seem to bother them - they play just fine with the ones they have and often create new games from whatever is around. A recent example is "TT Golf." This consists of a fly swatter (the club), a sketch pen (the tee), and a TT ball. It is rather fun and safe to play indoors - you should try it sometime.

Simple Matters

Another July weekend and another birthday celebrated, this time mine (next week will be my father's turn). The minor twist on the birthday meal was Malini asking me to come home for lunch on Friday and she had prepared an elaborate Kerala style meal with lots of my favourite dishes. The coup de gras was the jackfruit jam 'payasam.' I ate rather well and it was a struggle to dig myself off the couch to return to work. To complete the Kerala touch, Malini had served the lunch on banana leaves. As she was getting the leaves ready, Arjun inquired why she was going to use leaves.
Malini: "That's how we used to eat in Kerala for special occasions."
Arjun: "Why? Didn't they have plates?"
Seeing them struggle to eat rice with their hands I was struck by how different their upbringing is in some of these details.

Malini has been having a dry cough for more than a week now and it seems to ebb and flow. Tonight as she was putting the boys to sleep, she broke out into a prolonged coughing fit. Arjun was concerned and suggested "Amma, you should go to the doctor." Abhi was equally concerned, but for a slightly different reason: "Then who will put us to sleep?"

A Fleeting Life

6-year old Arjun to Malini: "Amma, what happens when somebody dies?"
Malini: "They go back to God."
Arjun (after mulling over it): "When does he send them back?"
Malini: "He doesn't. He keeps them with him."
Arjun (in tears now): "No! He doesn't keep them! They'll come back!"
How do you respond to that? All Malini could do was to try and calm him down with some platitudes.

When I heard the above exchange, my immediate thought was that at least in this respect Arjun takes after me. Malini was a bit startled hearing this, but matters of aging and death have always bothered me - even as a kid. Very early I sensed the transitory nature of life and this used to affect me greatly. My sister and I grew up in various cities outside Kerala, but would visit most summers. Those were carefree days and I would look forward to spending days and days playing with cousins and other kids in the village. Then one summer everything was different: the same games that had so fascinated us just a year ago seemed juvenile and uninteresting. The kids I used to play with, all seemed to have other interests and didn't care much to hang out with this once-a-year visitor. One of my favorite cousins was several years older than me and I could sense the distance that developed as she reached 'marriageable age.' I can still recall the sense of betrayal I felt when I learnt that she had been secretly seeing somebody. I realize now that I was being selfish and should have been supporting her instead of being upset. Not that my support would have counted for much - her family opposed that marriage and she eventually married somebody else. Her story is one of life's unexplained tragedies - she is bright, goodlooking, loving, and with nary a character fault, but the thwarted marriage was only the start of her miseries. They continue even today.

For several years after Malini and I were married, I was ambivalent about having kids. Sure, I enjoyed playing with children and I could charm almost every child I met, but was I prepared for all the non-fun stuff? I had a clear-eyed view of what having children meant and was not convinced that I was up for it. There was always pressure from parents and relatives of course, but I could resist that. Then my BIL gave me a reason that resonated with me: Its through our kids that we renew ourselves. Suddenly I found a way to deal with my always-present undertow of melancholy over the changes that time wroughts.

And that is what happens now: As I watch Arjun and Abhi do their antics and enjoying life, my worries about the passage of time fade to the background. Of course they never really go away - Attending Arjun's kindergarten graduation, I had to fight my thoughts about how he was changing and would soon be ready to fly the coop. Malini sometimes tells the boys, "I just want you to stay like this and never grow up." A sentiment expressed by and shared by many a parent, for sure. At such times, I keep silent - I know exactly how she feels, but the pragmatist in me refuses to give voice to such thoughts.

Much has been made of the 'power of now' (something our yoga master Sashi often alludes to), but there really is no better way to live life. Of course, this is easier said than done.

Arjun Turns Six

Can numbers tell the whole story? Lets give it a shot, shall we?


06: Age Arjun, born in '03, turned in '09 (meanwhile Abhi, born in '06, turned 03 in '09

3: Cakes baked by Malini for Arjun's BD
2: Cakes cut by Arjun (one at school & one at home)
1: Cake ("Molten Chocolate") promised to the BD boy, but not baked until yesterday.

6: Portraits of Arjun used at his school party (one of each year)
6: Classmates who got to ask Arjun a question (not including Eshu who was real disppointed at not being called upon by Arjun)
2pm: Time at which we arrived at the New Children's Museum Friday afternoon
5: Activities the boys did at the museum - clay, climbing wall, print making, bubbles, shadow puppets
4.30pm: Time back home from NC Museum.
6: Bakugans that Arjun got (& 1 Ben10 watch that was mostly claimed by Abhi)

15: Adults invited to the party (making a total of 17 counting Malini and me)
14: Adults who actually showed up (RD had a psychosomatic reaction to the proposed Karaoke and called in sick)
10: Kids at the party, including Arjun & Abhi
2: Guests who arrived ahead of any Murthy (Prem & Sanjana)
35: Minutes that the Murthys were late by (we are still in shock)
4: Guests who ignored explicit requests to avoid gifts

4: Courses (Appetizers, Pani Puri, Idli-sambar, cake, not counting tea)
2: Appetizers ('sundal' - steamed chick peas w/ raw mango & grated coconut; nachos & roasted garlic salsa from TJs)
56: Idlis made (8 left over)
6: Litres of Sambar made
8: Tomatoes chopped (also 3 onions, 2 carrots, and 1 bunch of corriander)
12: Cups of tea made
5: 1 Zin, 1 Cab, 1 Merlot, 1 Grenache, 1 Pinot Grigio
1: Guest who refused all liquids (Vanitha)
2: Guests who were still not done with dinner at last check (Sanjay & Latha)
60: Paper bowls/plates saved by using glass bowls (& washing them between courses)
50: Plastic spoons saved by using steel ones (had enough to manage w/o washing in between)
2: Glasses broken by Malini (including 1 wine glass)
3: Days over which the cooking was spread

3: Options for post-dinner entertainment (Karaoke, Poker, Film Fare awards)
1: Person who was really bummed about missing out on FF awards show
2: Desperate poker players (Hari & Prem...I joined them briefly)
50: Estimate of songs attempted on the Karaoke (in almost 4 hours)
40: Estimate of songs murdered on the Karaoke
1: Song that got a zero score (for the one english song attempted by Dev & Rahul)
2: Singers who stood out (Donna & Sanjay)
1: Tamil song sung by Vanitha (tough Roja song, pulled off successfully)
0: Photos of the singing
10: Minutes of video of the Karaoke (to be uploaded later)
1am: When Arjun & Abhi finally hit the sack
2am: When the last guests left (Anands, Putchalas, Bharadwajs, & Bhoj)>
3am: When Malini went to sleep
4am: When I went to sleep

50%: Readers who made it this far.
75%: Reactions that began with "What the..."
TBD: Comments received for this post. :-)

5: Fillers for pani puri, not counting veges: Peas curry, sweet (dates) chutney, hot (mint) chutney, Sev (from Surati - only store bought item), & of course, the Pani.
3: Variations on the theme - pani puri/masala puri/dahi puri (not counting the 'interesting' combinations that Prem & Latha were creating)
14: Adults who declared that they had over-eaten
??: Number of satisfied guests (to be fair, pretty much everybody left with declarations of "great party"... some were repeating it many times)

And one more before I stop:
400: Puris rolled, cut, and fried.

From the Mouth of Babes....

Being surprised at the level of maturity displayed by today's kids is nothing new, but the following two examples are still somewhat startling.

Couple of nights ago, I am loading the dishwasher after dinner when Abhi comes by campaigning to play some game. (Arjun is totally engrossed in a coloring project - as he has been ever since getting a new set of sketch pens and stencils.) After I found that I was not able to distract him, I said, "Just wait for some time. I'll finish loading and then play with you." He gives me a frustrated look, clamps his palms over his eyes and with a foot stomp proclaims, "This does not work for me!" Apparently he learned this from his big brother. Figures.

Last evening I was shopping in Target for a specific toy requested by Arjun for his birthday - a "Draganoid" Bakugan.
I was having no luck scanning the shelves full of various Bakugan offerings. I was about to give up when a kid walks up and starts examining the toys with a knowing air. Turns out he is heavily into Bakugan and starts educating me (apparently the Drago characters have 'evolved' - into what, I have no clue) and points out the different characters. He is trying to give me some of the back story, but is clearly getting impatient at this old geezer who is just not catching on. At one point he shows me a multi-pack and suggests that I could get that. I ask (with perhaps unnecessary naivette), "Why, is it better to get this multi-pack?" And the kid, who is no more than 7 years old, pauses, looks up at me and in all seriousness replies, "Only if you want your child to have more of them." I swear, those were his exact words.

The Parenting Instinct

It is kind of fun (albeit sometimes disconcerting) to see Arjun playing the parent with Abhishek. He will use the same reasoning and sometimes the exact same words that we have used with him. I guess this should give us some assurance that he has indeed been paying attention, but sometimes its bit like, did we really say that?

Their bedtime ritual is pretty simple - drink a cup of milk each, brush their teeth, read a book, and go to sleep. The other day Arjun drank his milk quickly while Abhi had drunk only about half and for whatever reason Arjun decided that he had to get Abhi to drink up the rest. Neither Malini nor I had said anything - Abhi is fond of milk and he will drink what he wants without any prompting.

Arjun (in a very mature tone): "Abhi, you haven't drunk anything. You should finish your milk."
Abhi: "No, I don't want to."
Arjun: "Why are you doing like this Abhi? Here, finish it." Abhi is not budging. Now came the admonishments:
Arjun: "If you don't drink the milk, you will be hungry. And if you wake up in the night hungry I am not going to come down and bring you food." The funny part is of course that this has no connection to reality - there is no way Arjun is waking up in the night to do anything, let alone bring food for Abhi - but this is exactly what we have tried on him a million times, futilely of course.

That has no effect and instead Abhi starts playing with a little truck. After all, he has got his pride to consider. Arjun tries a new tack:
Arjun: "Abhi, give me that truck. Aeta will show you a game." But of course, Abhi was going to have none of that and ran away with the truck.
More parental channeling on Arjun's part: "Abhi, I am not going to chase you. I am going to count to 10, if you don't give aeta the truck by then, aeta is not going to play with you."
The counting starts and now its a game of chicken - who is going to blink first? I sense that Abhi is really in no mood to give in, but I don't want Arjun to lose face. So I step in and encourage Abhi to give the truck to Arjun, which he just manages to do as the count reaches 10. So, now the "game" begins:
Arjun (balancing the sippy cup on the truck): "Aeta will push the truck to you. When the truck reaches you, you drink some milk and push the truck back to me."
I am thinking, yeah, sure, this is going work, and what do you know: As soon as the truck reaches him, Abhi happily picks up the cup and starts chugging away. Clearly, we are better role models than we thought.....:-)

Bone Chicken & Chocolate Cake

We celebrated Abhishek's 3rd birthday last Friday in a low key manner, partly by design and partly due to circumstances. We realized just over a week ago that we had not planned anything and instead of scrambling to do something more elaborate, we decided to keep it small. We also had the idea that we would do something jointly for Arjun and Abhishek, since Arjun's BD is only 4 weeks away.

Malini told Arjun that the two of them would go shopping for a gift "when Abhi was sleeping," the idea being that it would be a surprise to Abhi. The concept was not entirely clear to Arjun. As soon as I got home, he described the plan in detail in full earshot of Abhi, who seemed to be very much part of the plan. He went, "I will be sleeping and aeta (i.e. Arjun) will put the gift on my night stand. When I wake up in the morning, I will open it." To both of them, the surprise part was the identity of the gift and not the fact that Arjun was getting Abhi a gift. Anyway, we all ended up going and we had a cover story for Abhi (Arjun had to be restrained from revealing the true purpose). Malini took Abhi elsewhere while Arjun and I went to the toy section. Arjun was eager to give Abhi the 'surprise' right away (this was still 2 days before his BD) and I had to do some convincing to make him wait.

The day before his BD, Malini asked Abhi what he wanted for breakfast on his birthday. He promptly replied, "Bone chicken!" This is his term for any chicken piece which still has the bone in it. Malini: "You can't have bone chicken for breakfast." Abhi: "Ok, then I'll have tofu soup," which is of course his second favorite thing to eat.

I hadn't been taking too many photos lately and wanted to take a few before Abhi turned 3. So, we did that before they headed up to sleep and then I had to distract Abhi while Malini and Arjun could go wrap up his gift. The next morning, Abhi was up early (as usual) and I went to wake up Arjun. Normally this is a herculean task, but on this day, I just had to remind him that Abhi was waiting for his 'surprise' and he was up in no time. The gift was handed over, the wrapping was ripped open and Abhi was thrilled.

Later Malini asked Abhi what kind of cake he wanted. Chocolate cake, of course (both boys are absolute chocolate fiends - the darker the better). Arjun then asks him what kind of toppings would he like on his cake? Abhi, after some thought, "Blueberries and tomatoes." Needless to say, we skipped the tomatoes, although we did seriously consider options for putting tomatoes on top without causing the cake to go soggy.

Malini picked up Arjun and me just after noon and we all headed to the "New Children's Museum" which is in the downtown area.
It is not a very big place, but there were lots of things for the kids to do. They started with some clay working, and then moved onto some paper crafts, riding manual segues, climbing walls, blowing bubbles, making shadow puppets, and of course pillow fights! We were there for about 3 hours and then headed back home (with a quick stop at REI to get him some sandals, which was our gift).

Tandoori chicken ('bone chicken') and Tofu soup were soon being consumed and after dinner, Prem and family joined us for the cake cutting. Kids were soon running around, fortified by cake and a simple, yet satisfactory birthday celebration came to a close.

Goal Oriented Parenting

I was at the Golden Canyon trail head (in the Death Valley NP) waiting for some of the group to finish their hike. I was struggling (as is often our wont) to get some food into Arjun (who was a bit under the weather) and Changu asked if I used "goal-oriented" approaches. Which is a fancy name for the "If you eat this, then you can eat that" approach, where "this" is presumably something you want the kid to have while "that" is something the kid would rather have. Changu, of course immediately realized the problem - Arjun doesn't really have a "that." Even so, I replied that we try to avoid doing that. The one parenting class I attended stressed how providing additional food as an incentive to consuming food could lead to problems. Another point (which still makes a lot of sense) is to never link two things that are not really related. This food thing itself is a good example: if the kid is not eating because they are not hungry or interested in eating, providing access to some other food is not a great incentive. Another common example is "If you don't finish your lunch, we can't go to the park in the evening." (All my examples tend to be eating related for obvious reasons.) The eating has nothing to do with going to the park. Child psychologists tell us that such linkage will only cause the kid to think of the desired behavior (eating, doing homework, cleaning room, whatever) as a punishment. What you would like is for them to want to do the activity. A better approach is to show how the downside derives from the negative activity, as in: "If you don't finish your homework in time, then we won't have time for a book."

Having said all this, I must say that we are blatant abusers of this quasi-rule. Arjun and Abhi discovered the 'existence' of Santa a week ago and I arrived home one day to a breathless Abhi telling me that Santa was going to bring him gifts that night (he was convinced that night was Christmas). Of course he also had heard about the tooth fairy and included that mythical gift-giver in the same sentence until I was thoroughly confused as well. This is especially moot since he is quite far from loosing his milk teeth and getting visits from the tooth fairy. As far as Santa is concerned, they also know that they are supposed to be "good" to get gifts and we have been using that threat ("Santa is not going to bring you gifts", etc) as a way to get some desired behavior. I cringe inwardly whenever I make these threats, but hey, sometimes you just want them to listen!

We got another "incentive" to dangle this weekend - Antibiotics! Both Arjun and Abhi started on Amoxycillin (dispensed as a pink suspension with bubble gum flavor) on Saturday and they both absolutely love the stuff. They get a tsp of the stuff twice a day and the way they lick the spoon clean you would think it is some kind of nectar or that they are starving. We have of course promptly resorted to "Well, if you want the 'pink medicine' you better eat your breakfast", etc. As babies both of them hated any kind of medicine and we had to pretty much hold their noses to prevent them from spitting it out. This was especially true for Arjun, but it all changed abruptly one winter day in Dec 2005. He was almost 2 years old and he had been prescribed antibiotics (the same 'pink medicine') for the very first time, for an ear infection. The first couple of doses were the same struggle - somebody restraining his arms and legs, somebody else holding his nose, a third person to pour the stuff into his mouth, with all of us covered in pink, sticky stuff. We wondered how we were going do this for 9 more days. He had been miserable for almost a week before he started on the antibiotics. However, after just after two doses he was much better and he just started loving the stuff. He realized that medicines could actually make him feel better and after that day we have never had to struggle with giving him medication. This is, btw, a truism of parenting - just when you are thinking there is no hope, things suddenly change for the better.

Speaking of Santa and other imaginary magical things, kids are not alone in believing in them. How often do we as adults console ourselves with the prospect of irrational promises coming true? A couplet by the Urdu poet, Mirza Ghalib, goes as follows:
"Humko maloom hai jannat ki haqeeqat kya hai, phir bhi,
Dil ko khush rakhne ko, Ghalib, ye khayal acha hai."
Loosely translated: "I know what the reality of heaven is, but even so, it is a great concept for giving you hope."

Of Brothers and Sons

Arjun called me a little while ago to tell me that Abhi had bit him on his leg. He didn't seem to know the reason, but quite likely there was some tug of war and Abhi escalated it to his version of going nuclear - biting. Arjun is not really the innocent either - he is quite capable of dishing out blows and shoves and the occassional kick.

In general though, they play well together and (thankfully) seem to actually enjoy each others company. Abhi clearly looks up to his brother and will follow his example to the tiniest detail, to the point of being parrot like. Arjun on his part, relishes this role and takes it very seriously. As a parent one often wonders if all the advice and admonishments are having any effect - so many times it feels like you are talking to a wall for all the reaction you get. However, we get some reassurance when we sometimes ask Arjun to take care of Abhi (say in a store or in a park) and he will proceed to instruct and advice Abhi with almost the exact wording that we have used with him. Arjun is also quite protective of Abhi. Abhi does these little projects in his day care (chef's hat, mail box, etc) that he usually says are for his "amma". When I made a mock complaint to Abhi that he hadn't made anything for his "acha", Arjun immediately defended him saying that the "police hat" (which never made it home) had been made for me. Also, he gives all of Abhi's craft work his full attention and insists on pinning them up on the wall in his room right next to his stuff. Another instance was his effort to pacify Abhi about going to day care. He would give him assurances of "Don't worry, Abhi, Eata will come to your day care." (See related post.) When Malini would ask him why he was giving him false hope, he would reply, "I am just trying to distract him to make him feel better." I think some of this protective instinct also comes from his Montessori education - in that system the older students are encouraged and indeed are required to take care of the younger ones.

On the flip side, kids also learn to manipulate quite early. Last week, Shuba had agreed to look after Abhi for about an hour while Malini took Arjun for his first piano class. Abhi was all bought into the idea of a play date with Suraj and when Shuba came to pick him up, he even ran to her car. Abruptly though, he changed his mind and ran back all teary and declared in between sobs that he wanted to stay with him amma. No amount of cajoling could change his mind and Malini had to abandon the piano class, which was kind of sad since Arjun had been looking forward to it. What was really galling was that Malini noticed that he was actually smiling between his sobs when he thought nobody was looking.

And then they will say or do something that will completely disarm you. Malini was scrubbing her feet with a pumice stone and Abhi enquired why she was doing that (he has questions about anything different you do). Malini replied that her feet were not doing well since she had not taken care of them. Abhi asks why not? In a bid to curry some sympathy, Malni responded, "Because there is nobody to look after me." Abhi is quiet for a bit and then replied, "But you are amma, right? You should take care of yourself."

A Teachable Moment

Malini found a new PBS program for the kids to watch - "Sid the science kid." As the name suggests, they try to impart some basic science info. What I didn't bargain for (maybe the name of the main character should have alerted me) was the "jokes" that the show included. They run sort of along the following lines:
"How do you stop a fish from smelling?"
"I don't know. How?"
(This is the only acceptable response, you aren't allowed to guess.)
"You hold its nose."
(You have to hold your nose while saying this, which imparts the necessary nasal tone.)

Arjun was quite taken by this new game (maybe something in his genes as well) and Abhi was too, except that he didn't quite grasp the notion of a punch line, specifically that each joke has its own punch line. A couple of days ago I came home to this question:
Arjun: "What did one shirt say to another shirt?"
Me: "I don't know. What?" (I wasn't just playing along, I really had no clue.)
Arjun: "Nothing! Shirts can't talk, silly!"
(Me, grimacing, but trying to be a sport.)

Apparently there was a follow-up:
Arjun: "Why did one shirt chase the other shirt?"
Me: "I don't know. Why?"
Arjun:"Because they were playing tag!" Hillarious stuff.

Abhi certainly thought so, but he was a little confused about the two different jokes and ended up combining the question of the first one ("What did one shirt say to the other shirt?") with the second punch line ("Because they were playing tag."). Not just that, he started applying it to everything around the house. For instance:
Abhi: "Aeta, What did one banana say to the other banana?"
('Aeta' or more correctly, 'Cheta' is Malayalam for elder brother.)
Arjun (playing along): "I don't know. What?"
Abhi (in a triumphant voice): "Because they were playing tag!"

Now, this was sort of ok the first 10-15 times, but after that even Arjun gave up and tried to explain to Abhi that the two jokes were different. ("Abhi, in the first one, they are talking, not playing tag.") When that failed, he attempted an illustration:
Arjun:"See, I'll show you. What did one Sid-the-science-kid say to the other Sid-the-science-kid?"
(He was picking somebody who would actually talk.)
Abhi (being well-versed in the protocol of this joke): "I don't know. What?"
Arjun (talking directly at Abhi): "Hello, Sid, how do you do? What are you doing, Sid?"
Not much of a punch line, but hey, it was supposed to be an example. Instead, Abhi, who by now has lost all context interjected rather emphatically:
"I am not Sid, I am Abhi!"