Right As Rain!

I’ll be the first one to admit-my kid is a bit of a digital media junkie. He’s a tater tot who’ll transition into a full-blown couch potato unless Red and I nip it the bud!

When we travel, he like most brats..erm adorable children of his ilk, prefer to bury their noses in an iPad or a phone rather than look outside and see the landscape zip by.

Although blaming this generation isn’t fair by half….when I was his age if I didn’t look out the window or sleep, I’d go stir crazy and 3-4 hour car journeys were the norm rather than the exception. On train journeys, it was climbing up and down from the berths till my mom put a stop to it or I conked off. And it was a damn fine way to travel!

The offspring has been on planes since he was 4 months old so any journey that doesn’t get over in 4 hours max is like a life sentence to him. And even in flights he’ll usurp the window seat and *still* have the iPad on, playing his neverending dino games. God have mercy.

Today Red and I kibboshed his unending whines about watching something he wanted (his grandfather is currently alternating between the French Open and the Champion’s Cup) and wonder of wonders and miracle of miracles, Boy Whiner wanted to go and ride his bike in the rain. And not the blink and you miss it rains mind you. The halfway decent ones.

I saw him zigzagging from my window while Red walked behind him and he just came back thoroughly drenched, hair in spikes but damn! I really love that kid right about now!!

Life is made of little moments like this which make you feel that the little tater’s going to end up just fine.

So let it be written.So let it be done.” quoth Rameses.

How To Tell A Child Lives In A House

Well most parents who’re reading this are going-DUH! But for the uninitiated and those who just “love” kids, here are some telltale signs that a mini-adult inhabits a particular dwelling.

Here we go-

  1. There are mini shoes/flipflops/socks dotting the entrance of the house/apartment.
  2. The surface of the house is kind of glossy. Upon closer examination you realize it’s sticky. If you really are a modern day Braveheart and explore further, you’ll see that it tastes sweet to.
  3. You end up stepping on/sitting on/slipping on/finding-figures of dinosaurs, Hotwheels, clothespins, crayons, markers, color pencils,Play Doh, cookie cutters on the sofas, in the bathroom where the child bathes, out in the balcony, in kitchen drawers, within the folds of the comforters, on the bed, under the bed, in your shoes, arranged right in the middle of the room in a merry marching band fashion.
  4. The walls have hand prints, scribble marks, smudges even though they look relatively new. Also, the marks are at a midget-level and usually not above 4 feet.
  5. There are breadcrumbs not unlike Hansel and Gretel in a meandering path all over the house, on the bed and dinning table looks like a battle look place with the ketchup stains and jam streaks.
  6. The TV remote is kept up high somewhere instead of being close to the telly like in other peoples’ houses.
  7. Every decorative item is kept high up somewhere.
  8. The potpourri looks like it’s been rummaged through and bits and pieces are lying around on the floor.
  9. There are a trail of clothes- the house essentially resembles a laundry.
  10. The surface of the laptop/computer has been scribbled on. Erased but still with colorful streaks.
  11. The keyboard of the laptop/computer looks like a gap-toothed smile with keys missing.
  12. There are shouts of, “No Spitting”, “Keep Your Clothes ON!!”, “No Your Wee-Wee doesn’t Want Cheerios!!” et al.
  13. There’s a harried person, female usually, with bird’s nest hair, a red face, frown and steam coming out from the ears. Usually clad in sweats and a face that’s crying out for salon treatment.
  14. There’s also a small person, or 2, oblivious to the minefield he has for a mother; happily skipping out, sneaking spoonfuls of peanut butter from the kitchen and bestowing sticky kisses to the deranged, about-to-explode aforementioned female.

This was not an exhaustive tutorial but an accurate one. In order to get the complete lowdown on this particular issue, please head to the nearest neighboring home with a stay-at-home mom. When the door opens and the swirling tornado inside is visible to you, all the truths shall be revealed.

Image courtesy-http://5xmacias.blogspot.in/2010/09/harried-mother.html

Eating Your Words

Let me assure you that having to eat your own words is not a culinary experience to aspire to. Nope!

Classic cases of eating one’s words that I’m pretty sure quite a few adults go through-

  • When I grow up I won’t talk to my kids the way my parents talk to me- Reality? We used phrases like “Because I said so!”, “We’ll see”, ” Wait till your father gets home”, “Sit straight and don’t slouch” and the list goes on.
  • I can’t wait to see what my baby will do next- Again reality bites hard because the same child who you couldn’t wait to see toddling and uttering his first words is now a person who flies rather than walks and can put parrots to shame with his chirping and twittering and continuous mouthing of “Why”, “Please”, “Can I”, ” Are we there yet”. And this list too is sadly unending.

I had taken the offspring to the doctor’s office today and while I was waiting there I spied a woman who looked EXHAUSTED. I thought to myself, “this woman hasn’t slept properly in a while, or had the chance to bathe leisurely and probably has a preschooler…boy.” Three for three baby!

We shared looks of commiseration and fatigue across the room and I recalled when I first saw MLM’s sonogram and thought to myself that I couldn’t wait to have a baby…yup. My words will need a lot of seasoning going down my gullet.