Wake up Call

"Mammaa, pancin daa" (mom give me a pencil) says the little one scarcely five minutes after getting up, the moment I reach for the pencil it is followed by-"Mammaa, kagozs daa" (mom give me paper), sometimes qualified with "Mammaa bolo kagozs daa", at which time my alarm bells start ringing and I know what I am in for. For the good part of the next hour I will have to draw vehicles and the lord and master i.e. my 1 and half year old will recite "truck..." and before I finish drawing that he will say "bus..." then "caal..(car)..Mo.....(motor bike)....auto....scutal....boat....aalopen(aeroplane)....halacoptal........engin....." and so on and finally "ghola..(horse)...booon....(ball)....dam...(egg)....dukku...(dog)..."by this time I will be panting with exhaustion, the moment I have finished the last request he will say-"bhaat dal tukkulu daaa" (give me rice pulses and vegetables). "look here my dear," I want to say, "breakfast constitutes stuff like bread, butter, milk, fruits and not bhaat dal tu..whatever" but I have no strength left from drawing so I scurry off to bring the breakfast. The next half hour of the day will be spent in following the mite around and putting the food in the moment he opens his mouth. He will be busy playing with his toys.
The elder one has a different routine, I have to kiss her awake and carry her to the loo, then I say stuff like "pleasae brush your teeth" "splash water in the eyes" " comb your hair"etc. On holidays I have to attend to both of them at the same time "Mammaa makhoon (butter) daa" , "Mamma where is the fevicol?", "Mammaa shaam (jam) daa', " Where did you put the two side empty paper for my drawing Mamma", " Mammaa shol (water) daaa", " Mamma please sharpen the pencil", "Mammaa bolo boonun (big balloon) daa", "Which colours should I use for the drawing, oil pastels or felt pens?", " Mammaa balata" (corruption of Bengali barate i.e. going out , the sentence is "i want to go out to play") ," Mamma see how nicely I have written these lines", "Mammaaaaa sssusssu" and I find that the baby has relieved himself all over the floor. At this juncture I feel like giving in my resignation- " Dear God, I hereby tender my resignation from the post of mother of two children. I am afraid that I am totally incapable of handling the job. I would be better at being almost anything else, please accept this resignation and asign some easy task like scrubbing floors and washing dishes. "
Then I sit back and think when both the children are busy playing with each other, how quickly these babies grow, here I was the only playmate for my daughter, and now I can relax while she entertains her brother. Soon very soon they will not need me, what will I do then?Anyhow I am happy for now, tired but happy. The pleasure of watching my two babies play together, sleeping side by side, hugging each other,colouring furiously together and just generally being. I thank God for all that She has given me, please don't let anything happen to them, please.

The Ironic Situation Arising From Putting Religious Identity Before the National

While saying the two words that the losing captain is allowed to say at the presentation ceremony, the captain of Pakistan said something strange " I assure my countrymen and all Muslims all over the world that the team is going to do well in the coming series." or something to that effect. The line immediately rang a bell in my mind, hello, why should the Muslims of the world, other than Pakistanis, care about whether the Pakistani cricket team wins or looses? After reading Amrita's blog ( indiequill.wordpress.com) where there is a poignant snippet about how a Pakistani girl sold to the idea of an Islamic state reacted to the information that Pakistan was infact created as a refuge of Muslims and not envisaged as an Islamic State. I have also read about how the Pakistani team has become extremely Islamacised, I do not remember Imran Khan ever beginning his comments with the religious phrase praising Allah, it sounds good and who is not praying during the cliff hanger matches. But this is no innocent declaration of faith it is a political statement, this time I observed even Irfan Pathan begin with the prayer, maybe he felt the need because it has come to be established that you are not Muslim enough if you do not punctuate your statement with these proclaimations.
Today there was a scathing comment on the Pakistani captain's statement in the Times of India by a very respected and eminent jurist and teacher on p17 'Nation Mailbox' colomn, truely the Indian Muslim has always been suspected of secretly or overtly supporting Pakistan and it is funny how no one protested when such statements are made. Sir rightly points out that the only interest the Indian Muslim has in the Pakistani team is to see it being demolished by the Indian attack! The incongruity of the statement is also apparent if one applies it to nations other than India, would Nasir Husain the one time English captain ever hope for a Pakistani victory just because he is a Muslim. Will the Bangladesh team feel happy to see Pakistan win? All I can say is "muh dhoke aao bhaiya aur apne dimag ka istamaal karo jab public seaking kar rahe ho".

Aha! Did That First

Yesterday's Delhi Times p8 carries photos of Michael J and SRK side by side to show how the former has begun to resemble the latter. The Mr had pointed it out on the day itself, I just wasn't as tech savy to pick out pictures of the two and post them on the blog. So dear folks who visit my blog or chance upon it, the Mr and I rest our case. But the thrust of the article written is diametrically opposite to our view. The journalist, undoubtedly an SRK fan, infact compares the two while endorsing the new look of SRK. Look here, my dear, I have no intention of watching SRK doing the moonwalk, that would be disgusting, what is Michael Jackson there in the world for? There are enough MJ clones in the world why should anyone be happy to see our Badshah resemble him?This is crazy, one should not become such a blind fan of anyone to the extent that one endorses the most serious blunder of the guy. I am a die hard fan of Amitabh Bachhan but could not sit through Mard or Coolie and did not shy away from saying so. I don't think that ANYONE would like to see SRK look like MJ so very few of these die hard fans must be around( and I am crossing my fingers tightly behind my back).

Still no Mr on the Horizon

I had read somewhere that the unhappiest of women are not those without children but those who are single mothers with no spouse. Well I am temporarily in that condition. The Mr had to extend his stay so the life is without drama and excitement. We just manage some hurried smses before I zonk off at night so no scope for a juicy argument either!The kids are ok, the younger one tries to call his father up a few times everyday. "hao, Baba?" he says putting the toy mobile phone to his ear. But he is used to not having his Baba around for the entire day with only a short encounter at night. The older one ofcourse asks when Baba is going to be back and calculates the number of days that are left. Thanks to the grandparents the absence of their Baba is not as disorienting.
I really envy the guys who can murmur sweet nothings on the phone, the Mr and I start off on an argument barely three minutes into the call which can lead anywhere- in the realm of threats - including me moving out the next day or us filing for divorce!The parents in law save the dayby calling up my parents or sending counter threats our way. In any case we have spent ten years in this now on now off marriage and I am happy to see that we have done pretty well for ourselves if nothing else we can show off our bright and intelligent children each of whom has more brains and talent than the two of us put together. There is also the other side of our relationship when we kiss and make up within a few hours after deciding to get a divorce!No one can understand the vagaries of the human relationship, not even the people who are in it!

Missing the Mr

One year into my marriage my husband recounting a conversation at office said-"I told Mr so and so that my Mrs is down with fever.."I was quite taken aback to hear myself being addressed as 'the Mrs' and all my militant feminist instincts started tingling. I had no intention of getting married and if I did marry I had decided that I would marry as far away from my caste and clan as possible- a Zulu warrior was a definite possibility at one point of time. I would be an exotic partner who the Zulu would take good care of. Anyhow such is the quirk of fate that I ended up in my own community, and even my own caste and the only thing revolutionary about my marriage is that we are even of the same gotra (ancient grouping meaning people of the same cow shed or some such stuff), a fact for which many couples are killied in the parts of this country that have not evolved from the dark ages. Since that was the first year of my marriage I did not scream in protest and mildly said 'Mrs?' The husband said "yeah, Mrs , whatelse?" completely missing the point. Well I still hate to be referred to as 'the Mrs' but nowadays I just wince slightly because the hubby means no harm and I love him so.
In my blog therefore I think I will address him as the Mr. Well, the Mr is in Bangalore again and I am missing his presence around the place, which includes finding trademark Mr stuff all over the house-his specs under the bed, his slippers under the table, his gold chain on the commode cistern, etc I will leave out some other gory stuff as the poor soul says he will be completely 'exposed' by the time I am done with him in this blog! Lets just say I am missing him every moment of the day although when he was leaving I let him believe that I was glad to have the laptop to myself for the whole week!I admit that I shamelessly plagarise his ideas to feed my blog- it was he who pointed out that SRK has begun to resemble Michael Jackson, I knew he looked familiar but could not put my finger on who he had started resembling. So dear Mr pining for you now hoping to see you soon my blog is not what it can be without your smart comments.

Hail Team India, the Rest May Drown!

Two million for the team, promotions for all, houses for all fifteen, one crore for the six sixes..chuk de! Hello, my dear India lovers caste a glance to the east and look at the flooding waters my friends! Let not the crores dry up when we need it most. This one victory has fixed the stars for life and life is a great party with champagne flowing. Cut to the contrast in Orissa, this is the second time in the year that floods have set in. The death tool has passed double figures and once the waters receed there is going to be a spate of water borne diseases that will kill a few hudreds more, there is going to be no food and no urgent medical fecilities will be available. Less miserable but thought provoking all the same is the condition of neighbouring Bengal. Every year during the monsoons water enters the mud houses of lakhs of people. This time there has been a flood situation in several districts. The domestic help employed by my mother in Kolkata come from areas around the city and flood or no flood, their houses get washed away EVERY YEAR during the monsoons and they have to rebuild it. This year too they are sitting on the bed with waters entering their houses.
What is our notion of nationalism a victory in cricket or the victory over natural disasters like these? Will the givers of awards and cash to the Indian team spare a few lakhs for flood relief, will the politicians who are falling over each other to bestow honours to the team caste a glance at those organisations that are trying to aid relief operations? national pride will truely be worthy of bestowal when the object of our adulation is someone who can device a method by which monsoon excesses may be managed and flooding comes to an end. Perhaps it is fitting that the heavens are weeping as crowds gather to receive our heroes reminding us of the lakhs of our countrymen and women who are going to loose their lives in the floods this year.

Thanks Saurav for the T20 Victory!

While watching the festivities after India's win in the nail biting match yesteday I suddenly came upon a statement made by Saurav Ganguly that was being flashed in the panel at the bottom of the screen on one of the innumerable news channels-'Saurav regrets turning down chance to play in T20 tournament'- hello my dear, if you had not turned down chance we would not have won. I have been screaming myself hoarse in my blog rooting for young blood in the team since the beginning of my blogging career! Now my dream has come true. The young side with no emotional baggage and no serious injury and no politics, a fresh, energetic, stress free side with a uber cool captain-wah India wah!And what is this talk of having a different captain for the test side, I am sure that Dhoni has put such thoughts to rest. He is the undisputed leader of the side! I am glad that the 'Big Three' Sachin, Saurav and Dravid had absented themselves from the scene, thank you again guys. I am sure that they could have used their political clout to enter the team but they must have thought that it would not be worth their while. They would never have guessed that T20 would be such a hit and the chaps would bring home the cup!
The comic relief was provided by our own Badshah of Bollywood who turned up looking like Michael Jackson, his six pack seems to have fed itself from his face which has shrunk deep into his hair, his son looked cool though he does not have his father's dimples and his fathers dimples have disappeared in his hair! Mr Badshah needs help, the guy who is responsible for his present look should be fired forthwith. Oh for the simple dimpled sweet badshah of the 'Fauji' days sigggghhhh.....

So Its Darjeeling over Shillong!

Prashant Tamang pipped Amit Paul to the post last night to be the next Indaian Idol. Well I am happy in some respects and sad in others. Lets have it happy side up-
1 When my friend Fenela, her mother and aunt went about Delhi in their Khasi dress they were asked which country they had come from. My friend whose feature are slightly on the lines of the people of the north east has been asked "tto, aap kya Nepal side ki hein?" I am sure many people have come across many such examples where people of the north east are taken as belonging to some place across the eastern border of India, in this scenario to have a very north eastern guy as the new idol of the nation was a pleasant surprise.
2 This guy really made it good. He comes from a lower middle class family and this windfall will really be of great use.
3 These shows have given a lot of ordinary folks who have some talent a very very wide platform.
4 We TV watchers have got a respite from saas bahu serials and can watch our children sing and dance to entertain us.
The down side
1 This is a show about music and the best guy should win. This chap Amit was the better singer, he had improved a lot since he first arrived here and Prashant has remained the same, just a good casual singer.
2 The Indian prejudices have come to the fore in the sms voting system- 'no girls please, we are Indian', Dipali and Puja were good, I would have liked to see a Dipali vs Amit final. There was another Amit whom I felt for Amit Sana of the first Indian idol fame, he sang much better than the winner and was the better performer, he was a few shades darker than Abhijit..so skin colour maatters in India.
3Vote appeals to particular states or linguisting peoples really irks me. There were posters of Prashant in Kolkata saying 'Please Make Prashant Win' politicians were also plying to these sentiments. If you are good the whole of India should support you why do you have to appeal to the people of your particular state? This was seen in the case of winners of other shows like Debojit and Qazi. But I was glad to see Qazi win because the boy had really worked on his singing amazing even the judges, and Ruprekha the other winner had also performed consistently well.
4This is a music show, so why so much importance to 'performance'?
5The attempt to stage emotional scenes, romances and cat fights between judges to compete with the soaps is disgusting.
All in all I think a good thing has started and though the cons seem more than the pros at this point of time they are nothing that cannot be rectified. maybe next time there will be a female Indian idol who sings the best and who wins because the whole of India voted for her. Meanwhile I am looking forward to see the new crop of performers of the next round of the show.

To My Daughter

My daughter was born on the fourteenth of December 1999. We were hoping for a millenium baby but she was in a hurry to see the world. I saw her first after two days because I was in the ICU after my BP shot up. She was fast asleep and did not show the slightest interest in mommy when the nurse brought her to me for the first time. But on her second visit her eyes were wide open (as wide open as a three day old child's came be), she sized me up with her piercing gaze, took a look around the small hospital room and then proceeded to get on with the task of feeding. Well it has been a rollercoaster ride, raising her since then and I have somehow got by with the trial and error method. Motherhood cannot be taught because each child is different and no amount of advice can help you deal with the case in point. My baby is exeptionally intelligent therefore she makes her own rules and can't think why she needs to follow the dictats of this disgruntled adult. From an early age her sleeping hours were very less compared to other new borns who slept for 18 -20 hours. She took very small naps of 20mins and woke up fresh and raring to go while I was raring to go to the nearest water body and drown myself unable to deal with the exhaution. I had become mom for the first and my mother in her wisdom had taught me to slip in the nipple as soon as the baby opened her mouth so it seemed as if she were joind to me at the breast! I have corrected that mistake when my little one was born. My daughter is a very friendly baby and she loves the out doors. She learnt to talk at one and communicated with us in Bengali and the maidservant in Hindi quite effortlessly. But it was a struggle to make her do the regular things that one is supposed to do in daily life (and it still is difficult) like brushing teeth, doing su su and potty, taking a bath, wearing proper clothes, combing her hair, eating food, wearing slippers at home and now studying. She is still under the impression that all these tasks are optional the main thing in life is playing and having fun.
From the age of two and a half my baby could draw a full human figure and she had a unique way of colouring too.She draws exeptionally well even now and she makes beautiful craftwork and cards. Whenever I tried to complain to her play school teacher nor art teacher about her tantrums they said "oh artists are like that"! So I have somehow made up my mind that she will study art if she sustains the interest she has in it. Meanwhile I am struggling hard to reach out to her and help her deal with life. I would not mind if I did not have a son but if I did not have a daughter I would have that niggling regret in my mind. Mother daughter relationships are much closer in our society than mother son. I have seen my father share a very close relation with his mother but what my aunt shared with my grandmom was deeper even if they stayed far away. My aunt sent innumerable post cards to my grandmom and she signed off with the two words 'Tomar Kum' ( Your Daughter Kum) those two words still move me it reflects how deeply she belonged to her mother and was connected with her in spite of the distance between them.
My baby also is stuck on me, in spite of scoldings, beatings, emotional blackmailings and all sorts of torture that I employ to make her do her daily chores she will still come running and smother me with kisses if she finds me sitting by myself at any point of time. She will tell me about her friends and her likes and dislikes, she will share her dreams and will also ask me about my plans. We know each other completely and I want to keep it that way. I will try to reach out to my son in the same way but I don't know how societal stereo types will affect our relationship. I cross my fingures and hope for best. I pray for my children let them get the chance to express themselves and may I help them achieve all that they are capable of. For my daughter on this special day I have only to offer my gratitude, she has taught me patience, responsibility, anger management and above all a lesson on how to love unconditionally and inspite of all the faults in your loved one's character.

Support of the Blood Relations

I felt very glad today while looking at all the comments I have received from my brothers and didi. Much of my life experiences would not have been the same without them being a part of it. It is very important for me to know what they feel about what I have to say about those good old days as it is part of their life too, us being so inextricably linked together. I am glad that they like my blog. Thanks folks.
My paternal grandparents, Mr Bijon Sengupta and Mrs Bina Sengupta had three children the children had two children each thus they had six grandchildren and I am one of them.There is a common strain among all of us, the grandchildren of MrBS and Mrs BS, at least I think so, we can all express ourselves quite well in writing! my grandfather was an MA in English and a journalist by profession, so ofcourse he could write but my grandmom was also a prolific writer, she maintained a diary for more than twenty years and recorded the day to day events of her life in the minutest detail. Even now when there is a difference of opinion in the family regarding an ancient fact we quickly refer to Amma's diary of that year and find out the truth. Things like whether there was 'chingri machher malai kari' (steamed prawn delicacy) in the menu of my 'annoprashaon' ( ceremony when the child first eats solids) can be found out in a jiffy from her accounts. I am sure that if she were alive she would try her hand at blogging! Amongst my cousins the two eldest ones are the most gifted. Didi excels in English writing , is a master of grammer and can never get a spelling wrong in any language, I have tried to give her tough Hindi words and although she has never studied the language she can spell 'kinkartavyavimudh' without blinking even once! Her handwriting is beautiful and her brother and I copied it all over lives and our writing is now just copied versions of hers (though not as good). Dada is highly confident and expressive and he was the first among us to start a blog and frankly it was so high brow and subtle with lots of poetry and lyrics of such philosophical songs that much of it was beyond my understanding. There are three of us in the same age group a sister who is a journalist whose style is easy and direct, myself with my ramblings and a brother who is the most sensitive of the lot and had written a story about a dog in his childhood which had brought tears to my eyes and in his letters to me over the years he has expressed himself beautifully. The youngest is my brother who can bring humour into the most staid and serious matter. He is the complete entertainer like a masala bollywood film that he so likes writing about. On the whole after a brief survey of the cousin brigade I am still convinced that the writing bug that existed in both Mr and Mrs B Sengupta has found its way into all of us and binds us together in a strange and wonderful way.

On Nothing in Particular

Have not posted for sometime so I thought I would just let my mind wander on this second post of the day! I am not sure whether anyone is reading this blog, I know my didi will some day or the other when she gets time, but still even if no one reads me this is a good way of pouring out one's soul. When I was in school I used to unload myself on my mother and she tried to listen patiently to all that I had to say although her eyes glazed over sometimes with sleep on the sultry afternoons. After marriage my husband and parents in law try to hear me out when I relate my experiences during my outings. But blogging has brought about a very exciting way of venting my inner most thoughts. I can say whatever I feel because it is my space no guarded phrases and no mincing my words, just being me-take it or leave it. Its cool.
The husband and I have planned a trip during the Pujas after a long time. Actually I was sick of our routine during the pujas, the same places the same kind of food the same discussions. This time we are hitting the beach! My parents come over to Delhi during that time, they stay at my brother's and have to balance us and him rushing from one corner to another as we are too busy with our own lives to give time to them. Ma seemed quite relieved to hear that we are out of the way for the pujas and is planning trips to her favourite places in Delhi.
Pujas were a time of great celebration in my family and so I get quite excited around this time even now. I get up at 4 in the morning on Mahalaya day and compel the in laws to listen to the early morning programme on the radio that welcomes the goddess durga on the first day of her annual visit to the earth. I am sure they would be very happy to miss the programme and catch up on some sleep but I do not allow them that. I religiously buy clothes for my children and ensure that they wear new dresses on all the four main days of the pujas. I try to offer the morning pushpanjali on all the days and I start visiting pandals as soon as the idols are placed in them.
Well its that time of the year now and what with the pujas and winter round the corner I am feeling quite light and happy.

I Love Delhi...On Some Rare Moments as This

Today I met that very rare species the meter using auto man. I was off to a place scarely four kilometers away from my place. The first empty auto shrugged shoulder and simply refused to go there. The second guy asked for 40 Rs, I tried to bargain reluctantly when I spied another empty auto approaching ( yes I am a pro at auto catching), I let the 40Rs guy go and asked the new guy-"Deshbandhu college chaloge?"
"Baithiye." He said without a fuss and proceeded to lower a new meter. Staring at the guy's back a few minutes later, I thought, this guy will never know how glad I am to meet him- a regular meter using automan, how no fuss and convenient .Delhi would be a much better place if there are more like him. My eyes filled up with gratitude for him.I looked out of the side of the auto into the world outside. Smartly dressed people off to do their daily business. Everyone down to the lowly sweeper of the streets dressed to kill and now adays everyone sporting headphones listening to their favourite FM channel on their nokia phones. I loved the sight, Delhi looks good, as long as people keep mouth shut, I could not hear anybody speaking now, so the rosy picture continued. The meter read 22 Rs 68p upto my destination and I gave 25Rs where the other guy was asking for 40!Auto guys are truely villainous in this city. Before the meter rates were hiked the chaps used to say "mehengai kitni hai, dal ka bhav kita badh gaya!" and we clicked our tongues in sympathy and gave 5-6Rs extra. Slowly, emboldened by this success they began to ask for prepostrous sums for even very short distances. Then I lauched a counter attack by saying "hamare liye mehengai nahin badhi hai kya?" which is quite true, I am an unemployed mother of two positively way below the poverty line if there was no family support!
Well back to the city of Delhi. I generally live for the four months of winter and somehow survive the six months of summer here and the pleasant month of October is also greatly anticipated however I am sad in the month of Maech although the weather is pleasant for summer is lurking right round the corner. It is mid September now and yet there is no respite from the heat. The mornings have become a little pleasant but the day stretches long and hot and sultry. But I know the next month will bring the smell of winter in the air and I have already started sniffing in anticipation!

Locating the I Me and Myself in a Space Usurped by the Kids

Well I have nearly survived the whole of the week without the in laws and have even managed to find time for blogging! There is a two way force working in me a part of me wants to be involved in every aspect of my childrens' growing up process from wiping potty bottoms to sorting out fights with classmates. The other part of me at moments such as this when the elder one is watching TV and the baby is sleeping soundly, wants to look back at the life I have lead as just ME not mamma. My Institute where I worked before my little one was born. My married life and the special relationship that I share with the husband, all this runs through my mind.
I have always been very opinionated and argumentative with a very strong sense of right and wrong fair and unfair, these personality traits are least accepted in daughters in law, so my love hate relationship with my in laws also has been quite interesting and something that can be given much thought to in such reflective moments.
I think I have had quite a good life till now, relationshipwise. My family, friends, teachers, students, husband and family, and last but not the least my children have given me lots of love and support, perhaps more than I deserved.
I think most often also of those that I have lost firstly my grandmother who was a woman os substance and did everything in her power to control our lives. She was more like a mother to me than my mom who is a peace-loving mild and unobtrusive kind of a person. We (including my mom) had always been under the shadow of the personality of my grandmother- I could not imagine living my life without her trying to control it. But yet she is gone I expected her to shrug off the sheet and get up and say 'what nonsense, why are you crying, I am not dead' till the moment that they took her away for the last rites. Gariahat Market in Calcutta, which was her favourite haunt, did not seem the same again after she was gone. Calcutta itself does not seem the same after the death of my father's friend B uncle. I always headed for his house on the very day that I reached the city, now I steer clear of the very road on which his house stands. Another death that I cannot come to terms with is that of my aunt, we had wept in each others' arms when my grandmother died and stayed up all night next to her body, to lose her to the same killer disease as my grandmother's scarcely nine years later is a grief that I cannot come to terms with. This aunt was very much like me in temperament very direct and with a keen sense of justice and right and wrong. Ofcourse she was much more accomplished than I and she was very dutiful hardworking and self-sacrificing to the extreme, I cannot hold a candle to her in those matters.
Another needless and shocking death was of my uncle in a road accident followed in quick succession with the death of his father my maternal grandfather who could not bear the loss of his son. My maternal grandmother was spared the grief of losing her son as she had passed away a few years earlier. So now my parents are the only members of their respective families who have survived.
All these people, those who are gone and those who still survive have shaped my life and make me what I am. My children are lucky that they have both sets of grandparents at their disposal and I do hope that these memories stay with them for ever and the grandparents are blessed with long disease free lives so that they may participate fully in the lives of their grandchildren.

Cornered With the Kids

My prents in law are going out of station for family reasons for a week so I will be stuck with the kids for a whole week. Before any mom who is visiting this blog recoils in horror from the spector of a momma who is scared to be alone with her own kids let me tell you that I am really the one deserving the sympathies and clicking of the tongues. My kids are really a handful and I have always had the in laws around to pass the blame on. " What to expect if you spoil her" say I to the poor in laws when the elder one is refusing to study point blank, she is seven but still continues to throw tantrums at the drop of a hat. Of course I get paid back in the same coin when I am held responsible for her misdemeanors that range from biting her nails to watching too much TV to not learning spellings to not eating or even talking too much. Well all is ok if it an equal fight it always is. I know for a fact that they are crazy about the kids and they will be complaining about them while slipping a chocolate into their hands all at the same time giving a totally warped message to the child.
The little one has just discovered that he can climb up and down from the sofa and always wants complete attention. I have to draw all the modes of transport for him and a horse too for he is interested in these thinks currently. I remember a time when my daughter was similarly smitten by the story of the Ramayan and I had to draw all the characters from Ram to Ravan for her! The mite is also interested in WHATEVER the elder sister is handling be it pencils, scissors, glue, glitters, crayons most of which are a no no for one year olds. So I have to referee grabbing games and snatching matches.I generally send one of them to the grandparents but alas no such respite for the entire week now. So you see I need all the patting on shoulders and consolations