Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

My kid thinks I’m blind AND dumb. If he didn’t, why on earth would he cut off a clump of hair that he couldn’t untangle instead of bringing it to his mother who’s so damn handy with a comb and also when we have a detangler spray handy as well? My face is going to have permanent indentations from all my facepalming.

Anyhoo, two days ago TO walks up to me very nonchalantly and asks for screentime access when I notice a lopsided part of his hair. On asking him what happened to his hair he goes coy and says “nothing” and then once I poke him on the bald spot he can no longer deny, he tells me how it was hurting him to comb his hair and he just cut it to make easier on himself. ūüôĄ

After making it clear to him that a combover wasn’t something he should have to consider in this tender age, he agreed to get his hair cut so it would seem nice and even and less like male pattern baldness was setting in for a 10-year old.

At the parlor however, his desire to look funky had to be recalibrated because he didn’t have enough of floopy hair left on top to have a mohawk or even a mushroom cloud-like shape. What was inevitable was a bootcamp look. Ye Gods.

Am sure we’ll be visiting the stylist again, soon, for yet another hair dilemma. As I was telling someone yesterday, he went from pretty to butch in a single snip!

We Need Trappings

I’ll be the first one to admit it, my kid’s sticktoitiveness comes and goes. He’s tried his hands at roller blading and then suddenly didn’t want to do it anymore. He’s resisted all attempts at learning to swim properly; preferring to channel an otter as his spirit animal instead.

Red tried badminton with him and that took root for a while as did squash and then it flooped. For now cricket fever seems to be gripping him and how! He’s been playing for a while now and dare I say is passable. Of course I wouldn’t know a good cricketer from a bad one. Anyone who’s shots connect more often than not is good in my book especially since mine never do. And when they do, they go places Red grumbles while he has to retrieve.

But more about TO- he’d been asking for a whole cricket kit so that it’d feel like he was really playing. We held off on thinking that if this went bust too we’d be stuck with a lumpy bag to get rid off or store somewhere till the yen to play came upon him again. But after we heard from the coach that he’d been making progress and was trying more often than not to learn the game rather than play “stylish” shots, we got him kitted out.

And here he is in his kickass cricketer avatar, looking like he’s already hit one out of the park! And this pretty much him throughout the day. We just need to make sure we duck while passing by.

So while I can take the game or leave it, it’s pretty damn good to see TO this happy at doing something. So maybe he stops playing, maybe he doesn’t. He gets to make happy memories now. Better flip flop as a child and learn the ropes than end up as a 30-something who can’t make up his mind.

Don’t Have Kids…

but be around them. Children are Nature’s balm. They may come across as incomprehensible, demanding, whiny brats who you often fantasize about leaving on someone else’s doorstep, but kids have something we end up losing as adults- an ability to laugh at the silliest and simplest of things.

Take a little boy who’s recently become a friend of mine. He’s suffered an irreparable loss. That of a parent. He’s asked all the questions kids do when they don’t really understand death. He’s cried. He’s been sad and am sure he’s looked up quite often when the doorbell’s rung, hoping to see a particular someone. But while adults around him grieve and struggle to let go of their pain, shared and individual, he has his armor on and it’s keeping him safe. And the beauty of it is that it’s intrinsic 

He’s laughed at oranges that rolled off a table and went under a couch, a squishy grape that hit him on the chin while being deseeded, a wobbly banana that could no longer hold its pose and fell down with a splat or the little toy engine that went off the tracks and into the belly of an alligator.

He laughed again when he remembered what seemed like utter and complete silliness to him and seeing him we laughed as well. And felt a little better. Because unalloyed laughter is precious. And rib tickling, clamp-your-hand-over-your-mouth kinda laughter is infectious, uplifting and makes things seem just a little bit better; even on the really tough days.

Thank god for children. Thank god for all they find silly and thank goodness for fruits that’ve stopped being firm. It would seem that there’s plenty to be thankful for at the end of the day after all.

The Flip Side To Classical Conditioning…

I run from my kid. It’s the truth. After the first hugs and kisses of the morning are done I run and hide; especially during his summer break. He’s like a bloodhound. He can always track me down. No matter where I am. SIGH.

Image result for mom hiding from kids

No loo is secure enough. No pressure cooker whistle is loud enough, or a hair dryer for that matter. His chipmunk voice always floats through…BIIIG SIGH.

I was thinking with a clouded headed today (before the caffeine hit my system and brought me to life) that if my life were a sitcom it would undoubtedly start with my kid standing near my bed and peering down at me and me waking up with a start. Every. Single. Time.

Image result for sleepy mom

It happened this morning as well. I was drifting in dreamland. When my semi-awake radar detected the force of a stare leveled at me for a bit. I woke up to see the flesh and blood, looking at me and saying something about some hand pointing up at something. As is my wont, I tend to kick out at anything and anyone who disturbs me from my sleep and then burrow back into the pillows and back under the covers. When said disturbance still didn’t get deterred, Red asked him to get into bed with us at the risk of letting things linger and setting off the near-feral wife before dawn.

Image result for cranky mom meme

Between the whens, the hows, and whats we managed to get the child to brush, rinse, spit and repeat and have his milk and then started the actual “fun”. And yes, if I were to narrate this bit to you, the word fun would have had air quotes around it as well.

My kid has a habit of starting his chats with me as if we had been in the midst of a conversation and had taken a break. I could be folding clothes, doing laundry, stalking David Boreanaz (yum yum) on social media and suddenly a small (but loud) voice will say, “But Ayu….” and that will be it for the me-time bit. Until the curiosity has been satisfied completely, we will be beset by ‘But Ayus”.

Image result for cranky mom meme

This morning the ‘But Ayu’ got delivered right into the ear canal while I was having breakfast. And I told the light of my life, “no butts, no noses, hands, ears or any body parts. And no talking till I ask you either.” A sad little body turned around and started walking back to his room, back hunched, body posture totally downcast. I felt bad. For a nanosecond. And then began to count in my head while I quickly gulped down my breakfast…10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…and there it was..”But Ayu…when will you talk to me?”

Hey…the kid’s a monster. But he’s my monster. And hump days are meant to be wonky anyhow. Upwards and onwards peeps.

Image result for mommy's little monster

 

 

Waterloo-Circa 2014

Quite a few times it’s happened that I wrote something but couldn’t publish it because my inner crazy lady didn’t allow for anything to get sent out unless the requisite tags and categories had been ticked off. While cleaning up the blogging space, I’ve come across stuff I’ve left half-written, written but unedited or written with just the publishing bit left. This is one of them.”

Ordinarily I am a card-carrying agnostic but today I am ready to drop to my knees and give thanks to the Galactic Amoeba if it means that MLM will conk off early and give me a wide berth while he does so.

Today has been mind-numbingly exhausting and I have begun to think that I’ve lost my temper for the last time with no clear roadmap to find it again. I just wanted MLM restrained in one place. And since they don’t have straitjackets in preschooler size…well you get my drift.

Some days are so extraordinarily taxing that you end up questioning what the heck you thought you were getting into when you were happy to see those 2 little red lines. Let me illustrate…I’ve had dinosaurs in my food, in my coffee, in front of my face, going up my nose, peeking into my ear, poking in my gluteus maximus and all because I sought to foster his love for the wretched reptiles by buying him more dino figures to boost his pretend play and keep him from the evils of the idiot box! *bangs head against the wall*

Right about now I have no problem if he turns into a tater tot on his way to becoming a couch potato if it means I’ll get 2 minutes of peace while I use the loo.

Till then I’ll give my knees some workout and pray for sleep…

“He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache.”
Cymbeline (5.4.176)

Or the aches brought on by the force of nature in the guise of a child!

Image courtesy-garthandkaceyhamilton.blogspot.com

Weekend Wobblies…

Wobbly because till things get set right, it’s always wobbly and might even topple over. Like the unending towers my kid builds.

I’ve usually found that one can accurately predict that a small person (not being politically correct about the midgets and others of their ilk) lives in a particular house. It’s not always the tiny shoes strewn around, or the trike outside the door.

A house can be beautifully maintained without ever giving away the fact that someone with little grubby hands lives there. What usually gives is away, what even the most hawk-eyed moms eventually slip up and miss are the things kids hide underneath the couch cushions.

While I was growing up one of my neighbors had a kid whose couch would inevitably yield G.I Joe action figures. I’ve sat on Sgt. Slaughter and Cobra Commander more time than I would like to remember. And now that I have a grubby-handed kid of my own, the kind of things that end up under my cushions are worthy of a special mention.

Here are some of the treasures unearthed so far:

  • a bendy Mr.Bean action figure’s tiny litte hand. That was *quite creepy* but not as creepy as the head which was propped up on a bottle on water on the dinning table.
  • a clothes pin (don’t ask me why-the balcony’s on the other side of the house)
  • one of my elusive ear buds.
  • beads from a necklace that I didn’t even know was broken.
  • bobby pins
  • a handkerchief
  • indeterminable dust of something I don’t want to even consider.
  • marbles
  • a chewed on marker cap
  • and as always, a dinosaur figurine.

Surprisingly (and happily), bugs are always missing!

I don’t feel like Howard Carter¬†mind you, but there’s a feeling of awe from time to time once the cushions come off! If we ever get a bigger home, am sure I’ll find something that’ll rival Mr.Carter as well!

Happy weekending folks…

 

The Non-Pathological Word Salad

Psych 101 introduced me to the notion of a word salad¬†and initially I found it quite an interesting concept while it was still a theory in my books. Then over time I actually witnessed, heard rather, quite a few word salads while I was interning in various places; attempting to become a psychologist. And now, 19 years after I first came across the concept, I’ve discovered that word salads come in lots of shapes and sizes.

Well shapes are primarily humanoid but sizes depend on the age of the person and I also discovered that this condition can be non-pathological. How does that happen you ask? I’ll tell you! It happens when you come across a child of course! And spend rather loooong stretches of time with them. The exception to that rule would seem to be Sarah Palin but let’s not open that can of worms.

Take these snippets of conversations with my flesh and blood for example:

  • Yumm…this fish is delicious!!can you scratch my butt?
  • I can’t do subtraction, it’s too hard OOOOH! there’s a plane!
  • I promise I’ll be a good boy…HEY! there’s another plane!
  • I love you so much, you’re my best friend can I have popcorn chicken?
  • I don’t want to bathe because I’m not dirty and Africa has the most poisonous snakes in the world, did you know?
  • I’m getting scratchy all over from wearing clothes can I watch tv upside down?
  • I love Dumbo and his ears, will you make chocolate cake for me?
  • I love you because you have a squishy tummy and I want spasghetti for my lunch!

These are many many more gems of its ilk are a part of my daily diet. The offspring has a mind which is extremely pliable methinks. It changes from being like a sieve to a metal vault with the blink of his beautiful long lashes. The vault is for all sorts of trivia and the sieve-like stage is during my instructions to him. Without fail.

I frequently have these “wtf” moments when he opens his mouth. And my mind promptly hashtags them as #dafuq given the times we live in and I file them away under my “Crazy Mommy and Crazier Child” blog post fodder.

Images courtesy-http://www.patheos.com

 

Bedtime Bloglet

Many kids sleep clutching a teddy bear, plush toys and even a blankie.

Mine sleeps with dinosaur figurines under his pillow and a wooden alligator/croc in his arms.

God I love that kid when he’s sleeping!

That’s how we roll!

Snake, Rattle&Roll

By now everyone would have realized that I pun and desperately so. It’s almost my calling card in my blog posts. Titles especially.

So to jump to the topic, my kid is into Nature. Likes some parts of it even more and absolutely j’adores bits of it. And those bits are far-flung, disjointed and only he knows why certain things send him into raptures.

Our old printer was on its last legs, cartridge, carriage…you get the gist; so another one came and took its place. And Red being Mr.Technologically-Advanced wanted a wireless printer. So we got one. 

So now the situation is like this- MLM will pick up my phone after switching on the printer and making sure there are REAMS of paper in it, and simply command me-GIVE ME A PRINT OUT.
And his litany will begin-

  • Secretary Bird (no short necks only long-necked ones)
  • Gila Monster.
  • Komodo Dragon
  • King Cobra (proper one not cartoonish, cutesy snakes)
  • Alligators AND Crocodiles- because yeah, like he knows the difference between the two.
  • Leatherback turtle
  • Vampire Squid
  • Armadillos

And the list goes on. And as each page rolls out his eyes turn bright and he rubs his hands in glee and hisses in my ear, “Give me birdsss of prey Ayuuu.” I swear it’s like having your own personal Smeagol leering at its Precious! 

For those who glossed over that reference-watch LOTR ok? You can’t miss out on Smeagol and his Precioussss. Half the memes on the internet have to do with those two.

So after condors, peregrine falcons and vultures flew out of the printer and we called it a day, the hissing ceased and Gollum..I mean MLM went his merry way with his printouts.

A new day. A new pet peeve for me. Life is just full of opportunities!

United We Stand…We Don’t Divide

That’s right! In our home division has little role to play. Not because we’re excessively cohesive as a family but simply because MLM doesn’t like to do division. ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†*rolls eyes heavenward*

I’ve recently realized my folly in asking in why certain things find favor with him and why some don’t. The answer is extremely simple for him and terribly baffling for me- he just doesn’t like some stuff.

When they started doing division in school I wasn’t terribly worried about it because barring reading and writing he’s had a rather accepting attitude towards maths and seems to enjoy it by all accounts. So when he started arbitrarily leaving out specific maths problems I was quite surprised and asked him why those weren’t getting done. Pat came the reply, ” I don’t like them.” No rancor just a bald statement of facts.

And so began the process of trying to understand what kind of grave injustice 56/7 had done to merit being left out of the line-up whereas 44/4 happily got answered. I asked, I coaxed, I frowned and finally I gave up. Apparently division is not our thang. And so it shall remain until it regains favor once again.

P.S: kids are *really* weird. I wish those What To Expect series of books had clued me in. Some days it’s like going down the rabbit hole with Alice, the Mad Hatter and the Jabberwocky all at the same time. Truly maddening. If I was tweeting, this post would be hastagged dafuq!