TO has a last moment-scheduled cricket match; AGAIN. But we’re happy to get up at the butt crack of dawn on our weekend to see our only flesh and blood off for a game with other small humans who will trash talk each other and going by their past record, lose, and come back in a few hours.
My child is unlike me in the morning- viz he’s a vampire about going into the light or having a light turned on anywhere in his vicinity till he deems it fit.
Curtains stay drawn till he give his gracious permission to have light enter our rooms. I am a zombie till caffeine hits my system but barring that I’m almost fresh as a daisy and raring to go. Anyhoo, I had to turn on a smaller light a bit further away from the dining table where he was sitting and it cast some light on the coffee and sugar tins which were on the table for our coffee cuppa.
My bleary-eyed brat took a long look at the shadow cast by the tins on the wall beyond him and we had this conversation:
TO: “Hey Ayu, that looks like the Titanic (referring to the shadow of the tins looking like the ship’s chimneys). Me: Hmm yeah…I can see it too. TO: Boy, that was a lame movie! Me: Really? Why? TO: It’s so boring to crash into an iceberg. Why not crash into Moby Dick or the Livyatan? Me: How is that better? They all die anyhow! TO: Yeah but it’s more fun that way! Crashing into an iceberg…pshw…*grumbles uncharitably towards the Oscar-winnning, massive money-making movie that almost always made our younger selves cry in the end even though you promised yourself it was just a movie and there was no more room on the raft for both Jack and Rose!
We are a one-child family. I come from a single-child family while Red has a sibling. My dad has numerous siblings and my mom has two. I’ve gotten pitying looks on and off while I was growing up, about being a “single, only, lonely” child. And I’ve smiled to myself because that’s not all that being an only child’s cracked up to be.
It mainly bites being an only child when you’re in trouble and you can’t get away with blaming it on your dolls. I tried that when I was chubby and cute and got way for with it only because I was chubby, cute and a toddler.
Those things land you in the shrink’s office when it’s done at an age when the whole world, including you, knows that dolls can’t talk back, move or mess with your parents’ record player set. The Annabelles and Chuckys of the world are no help when it comes to convincing parents.
Fast-forward to the decade we’re in now and I’ve been told SO MANY TIMES that I ought to have a second child else my single, only child won’t grow up properly. Or that TO will need someone as a playmate and again the litany of “an only child, is a lonely child” yada yada yada. But over the last few days I got to live out the scenarios of having 2 children and it was illuminating.
For the most part TO is happy to have younger kids, especially girls, over at our place. They’re cute, they follow him around, call him an “older brother” and usually do what he says. They won’t mess with his dinos, aren’t too interested in his books and for the most part, aren’t competition. Till now.
We have, as a part of our extended family, a chubby little bossy pants. She’s utterly cuddlable, is very clear about what she wants and is very expressive. She also bodyslams herself onto prone bodies and not being a lightweight, it can be a startling experience when a little butterball just jumps on you with a move worthy of Wrestlemania. She’s also curious, very talkative and consents to sitting still while you do her hair, sing, play and do slightly more sedentary things. Sitting still with TO wasn’t something I remember doing much once he mastered standing up.
So Saturday night I have two kids who are vying for viewing rights on the telly. One wants a space cartoon and another wants a British piggy and her family. Both are communicating LOUDLY, SIMULTANEOUSLY and at ME. Both want to be heard and catered to. Immediately! Red is NOWHERE in the picture, having locked himself into the only other room that has a t.v. Each one is making frown faces and doesn’t want to compromise. Miss Bossypants comes upto me and gets in my face and says she wants Peppa Pig! Emphatically!
Pre-teen brat sits on the couch and complains that Bossypants always gets what she wants because she’s younger. And BAM! a vision of what my life could’ve been played out in front of my eyes. And while it isn’t unpleasant I don’t like being stared down by a cute albeit grumpy face that promises retribution for not being allowed to watch a goody two-shoes animated pig.
One kid who leaves extinct reptiles all over and who is responsible for sofa cleaners fishing out a series of shark miniatures from under the cushions is enough excitement for me any day! Any and all kids who want to come into mi casa, will be strictly on a timeshare basis!
I was taking a look at some videos I’d downloaded on the laptop and found this gem…it’s not to be missed. And it’s a perfect example of what kids are all about…
Enough with the wiping the drool! It’s a good look on me and it’s staying!
I have experience firsthand with only one child and that’s not counting the immature people in my life who refuse to grow up. I have one child. ONE. TO. But he might as well be part of a set of triplets the way he acts at times.
Dude…don’t harsh my buzz! Am in a Zen-kinda groove right now. Can’t hear anything about wet towels and messy closets. Talk to the hand.
One minute loving, sweet and the cutest kid in the whole world followed by split personality#1 who I would gladly leave at someone’s door along with split personality#2 who needs a whack on his butt before being left on someone’s doorstep.
I want it to be noted that am complying under duress and my fundamental rights are being infringed upon!
But all motherly love aside, it’s a tough time to be a kid.
Kids are meant to run free, be wild, let loose loud war cries, jump like they have springs on their feet and try to fly like gravity doesn’t exist. They’re meant to climb trees, wipe dirty hands on t-shirts, sneak ice cream on the days all cold stuff is off-limits and basically just do whatever their self-indulgent little minds tell them to do! But with the blessings of the Corona Goddess, life’s changed and not necessarily for the better!
Of course this fish is clean! They just washed it. Oh my hands? yeah..I washed them yesterday so we’re good!
The freedom to run out the door at will and share candy and chips out of the same packet is a thing of the past. Not washing hands is a crime punishable by a near court martial and soaps+ sanitisers are the new best friends they’ve been compelled to let into their lives. I’m not even going to touch upon the pain and anguish that face masks cause! Uff..someone call Amnesty International!
On the rare days kids get up early, they’d like to laze around, catch up on all the cricket scores from the previous night’s match and not necessarily spend their time “productively” or do a quick check to see if everything’s ready for the day’s classes.
Their parents on the other hand, mean mothers especially, intervene; insisting on them heading outside to catch some sunshine, walk or cycle and start their day “on a good note”. Pcch! Cinderella had it better!
I would do my chores but am a bit busy finding out about the state of the world while I drink my morning cuppa. Check back with me in a day or two or ten.
Moms get in the way of everything! Making friends with dogs, petting dogs, getting a dog! I mean who wants to worry about a tiny thing like allergies when faced with years of boisterous fun with a fellow tail wagger…wait that came out wrong. My child is not a puppy. He merely acts like one.
Moms are also the worst when they start outlining every area of the body which seems dirty and needs scrubbing. Offering to do it themselves if it’s not done properly the first time around.
And the insistence on baths is just mind boggling! Why would someone bathe twice a day? Once a week is enough isn’t it? And just who is going to be looking at the back of someone’s neck with such pretty eyes, chubby cheeks and a killer smile gracing the visage?!
I’m not getting rid of these! It adds to my street cred!
Poor, poor kids…what a hardship it must be to have to live well, sleep on time, change clothes and not look like a hobo, eat veggies&fruits and be clean.
Yesterday TO just semi-yelled out, “Oh darnit!” and I peeked out of the kitchen to see that the child had a nosebleed out of the blue! Since we are partial to him retaining his blood inside his body, Red and I rushed to see what the reason was.
The child in question wasn’t terribly worried barring the fact that his chunky mother hovering in front of his face was blocking his view of his laptop and wouldn’t you know it, that’s the time he’d decided that his online classes just couldn’t wait!! Never mind the other times when I’m dragging him out of bed so he can join his classes on time and not be a mini-zombie.
Anyhoo, after the usual “keep your head tilted, clean your nose out, stick this cotton up there, take this icepack” maneuvers, the flesh and blood pronounced himself to be nosebleed-free and fit as a fiddle. That is until I asked him to do some chores while there was a gap in his classes. Suddenly those few drops lost came to haunt him and he felt that he must sit down in an AC-cooled room and get his strength back a little bit.
Am grinning today while I type this out but trust me, I was anything but jovial yesterday. I’d called my mother in a hurry because I was prone to nosebleeds as a child although under slightly different circumstances and she lingered along Nostalgia Lane for a bit till I rushed her to the point where I had a possible solution in place. But the trip back to the #thetimesthatwere made me look back at things at a different time and place all day long. Maybe I needed a break from chores too, maybe it was from my family or maybe I wanted someone to dunk my feet in bubbling water that had Epsom salt, scented oils while I sat in a chair massager…oh baby!! Wait! What was I saying again?
My brief segue into salon porn aside, I was BADLY nostalgic yesterday. Am nostalgic at the drop of a pin most of the times and this staying inside is bringing out the #throwback vibes emos even more.
Speaking of emos and doing chores around the house, see how an adorable 5 year-old used to help his mother while getting into potentially dangerous situations (what can I say, I have a boy!)-have a looksee here!
For the uninitiated, I am a mother who is TERRIBLY fond of her child, the way he was. I am still getting used to who he is now and while the fondness remains, we may be reaching a GoT-kind of situation where vengeance and clashing swords could very well become the order of the day! Hey, the kid’s got the dragons part down pat, what did you expect?
More nostalgia posts to follow. For now, the Mother of the Dragon 2.0 has to rouse the sleeping cub and get him off to his “meetings”. Ah, the sweet life!
Yesterday I took a break from the germs in my house and went to sample the germs in a friend’s place instead. And before all the faces get pinched about taking germs lightly, I’d like to point out that these are all known germs and we’ve been germing it up long enough so that the germs are friendly more than anything else. That and healthy squirts of the alcohol-laden sanitisers that graces the eyes the moment you set foot in both households.
Anyhoo, cabin fever being a real thing and needing a break from seeing my buck-toothed buckeroo, I went off to spend some time with a friend after being lured with the well….lure of fresh filter coffee. What followed was a realisation that Mars and Venus are truly separate entities and after a particular age, the twain are most likely not to meet. I refer to of course, the difference between the way girls and boys utilize their time. And while I’m a big fan of pretend play overall, I have to say…oh man! girls are the cutest!!!
So I walked in to be greeted boisterously by two bouncy girls with grins stretching from ear to ear. I was ushered into a chair too small for my behind but curiously sturdy at the same time while I was treated to a spa; all the in comfort of their living room.
The grin you see on my face is real! Who doesn’t like to be fussed over? Have oil roll down their face while little hands stick flower petals which will make one look “beautiful”? Between the cream, the aloe vera gel, the flora and the patting my face took for about half an hour, I was about to topple over from the said chair out of utter bliss.
How does that compare with the time I spend with the tailless monkey who masquerades as a little boy back at home? Let’s say that farty sounds play a big role in that interaction.
The word ‘turbulent’ here refers to the frame of mind of the parents of tweens and not the tweens themselves. Honestly, I can even begin to take a gander at what these self-involved little hoomans are thinking, with half their brains trying to not give into the sociopathy that kids seem to have a blueprint for vs the sulky, snarky era that apparently spans the way ahead during their teenage.
While I have often wished and wished hard, that I could be one of those parents who fawn over their kids most of the times; I am unable to suppress my gag reflexes at the thought of constantly thinking of TO as my “little prince”.
‘My-little-pain-in-the-ass’ seems closer to the mark and I’ll tell you why. My usual interactions with him seem to go in these directions- A) I’m a slave driver and he’s a slave especially when it comes to getting him up in the mornings B) I’m not justified in asking him to bath properly rather than just looking at the soap and imagining himself as properly lathered, C) Expresing disappointment at the state of the loo post his using it (Ok now that’s the problem with most men but I’m trying to get him to be a bit more aligned to women in this regard), D) Me not behaving like we offer room service when the water bottle, glass etc is just two steps away. See? It’s not him, it’s CLEARLY ME!
This is the starting of the age when anything that comes out of my mouth is met with a “no”. And it’s not like when he was chubby, drooly and cute and saying no because it was a new word he’d just learnt and wanted to use it to death. Now the ‘no’ comes because he clearly has a setting activated in his brain that says keeping pushing that short, round woman in front of you till her head explodes. It’s not a fun time for me. And am told it gets way more interesting from here on. See how I effectively demonstrated the use of an euphemism? My English teachers are doing this somewhere-
But getting back to my causes of being in a snit- the kid’s growing up. Acting dumber at times sure, but growing up. He doesn’t fit into my lap, he’s not soft and squishy anymore and it takes more and more work to not flick his ear in irritation every damn day.
So pretty much on most weekdays and definitely on all weekends there’s a scene playing out which looks like this. For those of you who aren’t parents, that’s TO’s confused “What did I do look” followed by my “Eye of Shame/ I’m a part-time Medusa” look followed by TO’s nyah nyah attitude which in turn in followed by my “Now I’m seriously displeased look” and that’s all topped off with Red’s “Oh man! I have to run before they ask me to take sides” look.
TO and I started 2020’s fun segment off with a mother&son movie date. That nachos and cheese popcorn were a part of it goes without saying. And that the dust from the nachos and the cheese from the popcorn don’t go without a hard scrubbing; goes without saying also.
Now, onto the movie! A lone wolf master spy and a lonely young brainiac scientist learn about each other and what it takes to be a team in this new offering from Blue Sky Studios. Will Smith is smooth as ever as Lance Sterling, the uber cool, unflappable, repartee-trading spy who always ‘flies solo’. Tom Holland with his vulnerable ‘young man’ voice as Walter Beckett come together and learn what it means to be friends, save the world and why pigeons are rather misunderstood and far more cooler than any of us every imagined.
It’s a fun movie with the kind of appeal fun that works with both the kids and the big kids in their lives. Check it out for the slick animation or if you simply like Will Smith…or pigeons! because this flick sends messages without being preachy, too uppity or without being too in your face about it. No spoilers here barring that there are LOTS of pigeons.
Some people have trouble being cooped up. Even if it isn’t in a tiny space and even if they don’t suffer from claustrophobia.
Take my kid for example…sitting still is a challenge. He’d rather be running his mouth and legs off all at once and flit between shadowing bowling, getting jiggy with it and talking his distracted head off.
We’re on a train right now and off to visit my folks for the holidays and am wondering why we didn’t splurge on flight tickets instead. Spending time with our children is seriously overrated at times.
We have a comfy cabin and everything but it’s not big enough to bounce hyperactive balls on, or take a running lead and pretend to bowl out a phantom batsman playing cricket among other things.
Seeing him go through stages of being slightly tolerable to obviously obnoxious, I was reminded of the days when I used to work and he was in kindergarten. His school transport would drop him off at my office and between me and my colleagues, someone would keep him busy while I got on calls or spoke to clients or sent out emails; often at the speed of light just to be able to wind up everything super quick and get him back home
One day I was on a fairly important call with a team we wanted to partner up with while offering our services and an-almost 4 year old decided that post going to the loo he no longer wanted to wear his pants and wanted to moon all the people I worked with instead.
The person I was talking to was droning on and on, not letting me get a word in edge-wise so I couldn’t hang up either and this is the scenario that played out: an irate and striving-to-appear professional woman chased a half-naked kid around her office and hissed at him sotto voce to put his pants back on immediately while uh-huhing with a guy who was tripping on his own voice.
Finally I think I bellowed to a kid who was on top of a kiddy ladder and about to bounce onto a foam mat to behave himself and put his pants back on or he was going to get spanked!
There was an immediate pin drop silence from the phone while a semi-naked little boy flew through the air, giggled his butt off and again ran off to do something else that would make the veins pop on his mother’s head.
The call was hastily wound up and a new time scheduled. The new call went by in a blink, we kept to the main points and even skipped the pleasantries entirely. The synergy took place, bumbums were covered up and the world was at peace again.
Random. Structured. Haphazard. All Me. 