I admit, I should be caffeined up before doing anything pertaining to my child on weekday mornings. Actually that’s a good rule of thumb to follow all through now that I look back on the last 10 years.
Like every kid on a “winter” morning, he was snuggling deeper under the covers and refusing to get up, saying he couldn’t go to school because he was soooooo sleepy. That’s when my uncaffeinated, let’s also call it my lizard brain, decided I should open my mouth.
Instead of just yanking the covers off him or alternating between kissing him and pinching his butt, I chose to say (most unwisely), ” You shouldn’t have been walking around like a bhatakti aatma last night when you should have been in bed then, shouldn’t you?”
See, giving any sleep-addled person unfamiliar info that their brain needs to process first thing in the morning is just wrong. Especially in the case of a linguistically-challenged child who’s decided that he cannot process anything else barring English. So an unpronounceable word first thing in the morning was like dumping a whole world of WTFiveness on his drowsy head.
Our conversation went like this- TO: What’s a batati aatma? Me: BH-takti. TO: Bakati? Me: BH! TO: Butt-aakti? Me: BH-BH-BH!! TO: just gimme a hug Ayu and I’ll get up.
Now he tells me..
Yesterday TO was in a bit of a defiant mood and decided to test the waters by flouting the rules and diktats laid out.
I did the only thing that I do when yelling isn’t an option; I stopped talking to him. It was quite a bit of a blessed silence for Red am sure.
The requests to read a book at bedtime fell on deaf ears amongst the litany of chants of my name. Finally a little boy fell asleep with a sulky moue.
This morning he woke up and gave me a hug and kiss and looked relieved when I responded in kind. It led to outpourings and declarations of love about me being his favorite mother!
I said I had to be his favorite mother because I was his only mother and he said, “That’s what you think. Ma (my mom) is my mother too! She’ll love me when you don’t!”
I dont think the lesson’s being learnt here, eh what?
Disney’s latest offering is a testimony to parents’ love for their children. A) They buy the movie tickets and then spend a bomb on snacks the kids didn’t need to eat and B) They sit through the entire movie while a small voice in their minds keep going, ” Gag me with a spoon!”
The fact that I have a boy doesn’t stop us from watching a movie which is firmly in the “girlie” territory. The sequel had giants, magic, mysticism and lots more but it also had its characters breaking into a song at the drop of a pin and was very reminiscent of the Bollywood dramas where people gaze off into the unknown and sing their hearts out due to love, fear, doubt…any damn thing that catches their fancy!
But the main things which stand out in this movie are the lack of a strong storyline which was the foundation of the earlier one. It’s almost as if Elsa needs a new drama in her life because being queen and having a normal existence is so humdrum. She begins to hear voices which she cannot resist and that starts off the chain of events which unfold in predictable cliche after cliche. The animation too, doesn’t delight like the previous one. There are one or two instances and those are best watched in 3D but the rest is fairly meh.
So unless your kids *really* love the princessy feel, skip this one. Go watch Inside Out or Hotel Transylvania instead; again. I’ll take Adam Sandler’s Drac over Kristoff singing his heartbreak in a sequence reminiscent of a 90s boyband video.
When wandering around the streets of Barcelona, near Sagrada Familia or the Arc de Triompf, you will come upon the church of Sant (St.) Joan (not a woman).
After seeing the style of Gaudi’s masterpiece, this church seems run of the mill but take a round of the place and discover it’s beauty and architecture for yourself.
The cries of Ole resound in the small room. The lights are dim but bright enough to shine on sheen of sweat on the faces and bodies of the dancers.
Suddenly a deep baritone growls out notes to a song you don’t understand but can feel all the way down to your toes.
The thudding off the heels, the snapping of the fingers and the flinging of the fringed shawl in a frenzy is enough to create a tempo that you are moving along to; even without knowing.
The sangria is forgotten, the fatigue of the day is parked for a while…and you just watch the fury that is the flamenco!