Preschool - ready or not?

KB started school last Wed. He is registered for MWF classes.

Wed - 45 min peaceful time in class. Then crying began till finish time.

Friday - Cried the entire time - 9 to 11.30 am. But teacher still felt he was much better since he did not cry loudly and he answered all her questions. And he was in a great mood all day after that and talked often about his teacher.

Weekend in between.

Monday - Was reluctant to go even when he was home. Tried to tell me that he only had school "Nalaki" (tomorrow) and that he doesn't have to go. I convinced him I would come and get him soon after story time (the last thing they do) and that he will have fun. The moment we reached school he started crying a lot. After I left him in class, he cried so much that he threw up three times and the teacher had to change his clothes twice.
She was very sweet about it - didn't complain even once. She said it was not surprising since he had had a weekend in between and Mondays are usually harder.

Today (Wednesday) - I decided I would drop him late around 9.30 am.
Until 8.30 am he kept telling me about school - how if he is good I will get him balloons etc - but suddenly when he realized it was really time to leave - he said - nalaki dhan (tomorrow) school. So we tried all tactics and finally I told him he has to go to school. But I asked him if he wanted to lie down for a bit (he was yawning - KG woke up at 6.00 am and so he woke up an hour earlier than normal) - he said yes and went to his nap bed and lay down - around 9.00 a.m., I changed KGs diaper and got ready to drop him at school. He was calm but not cheerful - he knew I was packing his back pack - he sat in the car seat - talked OK etc - when he got down he started the tears - though it didn't come easily at first. He managed to kick start the crying and then it flowed easily and the volume got louder. I took him to the bathroom and then sat him down in class and gave him a hug, told him to be good and left - the assistant teacher Ms.S whisked him off for some painting.

But he did nothing till 11.30 - he was quiet during story time - but that's it. Rest of the time he had been crying.

What made it really disappointing today was that even Ms.T (she has been teaching at this school for 23 years now - a really sweet person) seemed unsure if this would work out soon or not. She said to me, "He is not sad or upset - just mad that mom is not there with him...he is not having any fun and if there was some improvement then I would say OK. But he cried the entire time. And he is loud so I feel bad for the other kids since I have to think about them as well".

She suggested "mommy and me" classes, but that's not going to do any good. If he is not ready she said we can try again in January. I feared it shouldn't come to this - but it is what it is. I have to go with the flow now - at least thank God it is only age 3 class. Not a big deal. So many kids go straight to KG. Wait and see. As soon as I went he posed for a photo (the photographer said she waited till I came since he was crying) of the class kids...and asked the teacher if he could borrow a book (the second time he is borrowing from her) and brought some book from the shelf...he said bye to both the teachers very sweetly and told Ms.T that he will be good on Friday - she asked him if he will bring a smile - he said "yeah". Ms.T said to him "Leave your tears at home, just bring your smiles - because if you cry so much it hurts my ears and the other kids as well"...and she gave him a high five. He played for some time in the play ground on his own (which he can for even two hrs if I am somewhere in that building) while I talked to another parent and when he got into the car he told me how Ms.C (the director) was not there today and said "Phone panni kekalam (Let's call and ask) - Ms.Cindy please come to the W school". It is not any English language problem since he communicates well with the teachers in English. And he likes both the teachers. He loves the school. The only problem is my absence while he is at school.

I was feeling a little emotionally riled up thinking about what the teacher said - that he may not be ready for school yet. It is hard as a parent to just accept that especially when you see two other kids in class who are coming to school (others have been away from mom before this) for the first time and adjusting in a couple of days. It is hard not to project this on myself as some kind of failure on my part to have given him adequate exposure or time away from me.

KB is otherwise so confident when he talks to the teachers, is observant and aware of what is happening around him in school despite his crying - he tells me which book they read, which kid did what etc. I guess this is the beginning of my own growth in the process of parenting outside the warm confines and comforts of my own home. I can have expectations of things going a certain way but I have to accept things as it is and let him just be and come to terms with things at his own pace. I have to call the shots here - do I want to keep pushing it because it is generally accepted that children have a hard time initially or do I believe the teacher (I don't have a choice really - if she feels he is not ready - but I could at least request her to try for a little longer) when she says he is not ready and just wait a few months. I thought this whole process would be an emotional one for me. But I am glad that I feel a strange sense of calm despite the disappointment of such a difficult start - that if I have to wait a few more months I am OK with it. It is just age three and if he needs a slower transition into being away from me (which is clearly the only problem and not going to school itself), we will just work on it in the coming months. We are to blame too - B comes home past 8.00 pm on most days and on weekends we tend to go out as a family. So KB hardly has time away from me - I am an absolute constant in his life. So I can't expect this to be easy on him - although I guess I didn't expect it to come to this - where they may ask me to pull him out for now. Anyway - he has promised me he will be good on Friday - so there is always hope.

When KB was about 3 or 6m old (I don't remember clearly), his pediatrician wrote in his notes (which I saw a year later) "sensitive and opinionated". KB is very strong willed. While he is soft-natured in the sense of being concerned about other people, there are things he just will not budge on - no reward can make him change his mind. I had told him I would get him a new set of balloons if he was good at school today - but that clearly did not work - he knew he hadn't been good so he didn't even ask for it on our ride back from school. His doctor told me to watch for some of the infant personality traits to show up again in his adulthood - that he believes that some of those show up even later in life. I suppose this is a preview of what life at age 3, 13 or 30 will be like for me with KB!

First day at preschool

It's been five months since I wrote this post about my preschool search. KB turned three in August and it was time for the "big boy" to start school. The big day - KB's first day of preschool - was upon me/us this morning. It was big not just because he was starting preschool but this was probably the first time ever he was going to be away from me ever. The best he has done away from me is when he is home with B and I go out to get something quick and come back home asap. But usually I don't get enough time after B returns home to do that on week days and on weekends, we usually end up going out together. And this was a big day for me to see how I react to being away from KB. I imagined myself breaking down in tears to leave him in school and wipe it off movie style and start my car and drive back home. I imagined KB shrieking and howling holding on to my legs only to be pried apart by the teacher and having to run out of class. That didn't happen really.

What did happen?

I had prepped KB over the last few weeks that we would be going to school W and I would drop him off in the morning and he would do all the fun things at school and when it was time to go home I would come and pick him back up. He would recite all of this like a story back to me. Often. We also read a couple of books about starting school. And even this morning when we left for school he told me he would be a "good boy" and have fun at school W and that he wouldn't cry. Well, our boy is a good story teller I have decided. He would get to the finest details about this whole school story - how he would get into the car when I came to pick him up and how KG will be happy to see him, how she would scream in delight when she saw him etc etc.

B came with us in a separate car and we went to drop off KB in school. He looked happy and cheerful when we went in. I took him to the bathroom and then got back into the classroom. I found a chair available and since we had to leave the classroom in a minute or so (school starts at 9.00 am), I just quickly seated him in a chair, gave him a hug and showed him the rolling pin for the play dough and said goodbye to him and left the classroom. It was really strange for me to drive home alone with KG alone and KB's car seat empty. A sad hindi film song would have been apt for that mood!

I got home and had my cereal, talked to my brother and a good friend - pretty much about this since they wanted to know about his first day. I thought to myself that if he crossed 10.00 am then he would be fine. Nuooooohoooo! Our boy had different plans.

At 10.30 am I got a call from the director of the preschool saying KB was having a hard time and if could may be pick him up earlier. So I just immediately left and went earlier than school ending time to get KB. As I parked the car, I saw KB standing in the play ground looking at the other kids while casually crying away to glory. The teacher Ms.T told me that he played with play dough etc till about 9.35 and then he came and told the teacher, "I am done". So she took him to a bin of cars and asked him to play with it. After which he asked for mom. And the flood gates were thrown open when mom didn't appear out of the play dough or jump out of his toy cars!

I was feeling really bad when I was walking towards his school for early pick up. But thankfully I didn't start crying myself. The teachers seemed quite supportive. Even though he was the only one in his class who cried this much, the teacher said there were other kids in other classes who also cried. As soon as he saw me he calmed down with a few whimpers thrown in for effect to show how much he had been crying. He was of course happy to be brought back home. But what gives me hope is that a) he did not cry for the first 40 min in school b) He loves this school
3) he told me stories about who did what in school and it seemed to me like he enjoyed being there.

Well, let's see what happens on Friday!

If it is possible to write posts while sleeping, you could give it to me. I am totally falling asleep here!
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MammaMia - this one's for you : What do Bengali kids learn in preschool?

A for Orange! :) (Need I elaborate why Onondita?!)

KB speak

KB along with his sister is growing in different ways. A lot of personality changes that I feel has come about because of his little sister. He was always very playful and silly but now he has become very mischievous as well. He throws random objects up in the air, hides things in the CD player, sprays water all over the window shades with his sister's feeding bottle etc...It is a lot of fun and it is very interesting for me to see how her presence has changed him. I only wish her eating habits (she is also very difficult to feed these days but she is so willing and eager to try new foods unlike him) would also rub off on him.

KB is also getting better at defending himself because he has learned to fight her for his toys when she comes and grabs them from him. He has always been confident and bold in talking to adults but with physically stronger kids in the playground, he used to shy away. But now he just verbally tells them to move and give way for him if they are blocking the slide or tells them "Go, it's my turn now". I am hoping that preschool will help him with this even more. I don't want him to learn aggressive behavior but I am happy to see him feel physically confident around other children, even if he is smaller than them.

Now for some KB speak.

We got back from the library and as I was getting lunch ready for the kids, I asked KB to play some music. I tried to give him the CD instead of letting him choose one. He raised his voice and said "Eddddukaga indha maari pannre?". (WHY are you doing this?). I told him, "KB, kutti boys are not allowed to yell at their mamma's. Only big people yell if little kids do something wrong". It was sort of a light exchange. I went about my work soon after.

KB was trying to change CDs in the player when, as always, KG came running towards him to grab the CD he was holding. He turned to her and said "Kutti baby, Little girls should not disturb boys...Okay?!" .

OK thatha, I think to myself.
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We were reading a book "Best friends" while I was givnig him his lunch. I then casually asked him, "Who is your best friend, KB?" and he replied with the same casual tone "Mamma" and turned the page. I guess I should enjoy this status while it lasts!
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KB doesn't like it if his clothes are wet or his hands/feet are wet when he is at home. It's OK if he is in the water at the beach - but the moment he steps out, he has to be changed,cleaned etc.
The other day we were in the yard and his shorts got a little wet when he was playing at the water table. When he asked that his shorts be changed, I told him "It's OK, it's just a little bit of water...it will dry up, KB".

Today while I was having my lunch, he poured some water from KG's water bottle into a cup and poured it on my pants. I told him not to pour water one me. He did it again on the other leg. I told him "KB, no, please don't put water on my pants, I will get wet now". Very sweetly, he tells me, "It's OK Mamma, it's just a little bit of water. It will dry up Mamma!".
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Today the four of us were in the yard watering plants. I went back in to do some clean up work in the garage. B told me that KB asked him to give some water to the wind. B asked him why, he said, "Give some water to the wind, Daddy, wind is feeling thirsty". And B threw some water up in the air both kids delighted in it!
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Awarded!

Many many thanks to Dottie and Mammamia for giving me this award. I think of these awards usually as something that just spreads a feeling of cheer and good will - no matter what the different kinds of awards are. So in some sense, I take it lightly - neither get too excited nor too sad if I get/don't get an award that I see going around. I don't particularly feel affected. Although when it comes to passing on awards, I really feel like including a lot of people who I enjoy reading - no matter what the purpose of the award is. It could be a most frequent blogger award - but I would still feel like passing it on to every one I like, no matter how infrequent they are at posting, in the spirit of spreading happiness and joy! :)

In some sense, when I saw this award, I really felt like, "Who me?!". "Brilliant weblog"?! I couldn't believe it because I don't post often enough and assume only a few people read it - so I felt a tiny bit undeserving of such an award. Nevertheless, who can deny feeling good about any praise about something you do?! In particular in this case, it is not even the award that made me feel good but the warmth in the words that came with the award. And especially coming from who I think are awesome writers whose posts I enjoy thoroughly.

Mammamia, I started reading you only recently when I chanced upon your writing while reading your namesake's. I think you write really well and to think you have actually read some of my posts and enjoyed it and think me worthy of an award makes me feel good.

Dottie, I think I have been reading you since your very first post. Dottie, not to gush over with emotions over this - but what you wrote is something that made me feel really happy.

"There is something about noon's posts that is very, very honest. No pretenses here. Always look forward to reading her blog".

Those are the kind of words I would like on my tombstone! Because it is something I strive to be but find difficult at times. Difficult because I feel at a loss when I try to be "normal" and "unpretentious" but still get mistaken, or not appreciated or just taken for a ride. And difficult also because I know people who are fabulously smart yet completely down to earth and some people who are so sincere in what they do even if their work is not glamorous and are so untouched by the flashy world around them. I strive to be like them - I really feel at peace when I am around such people. Now, let me not sound like a victim of this cruel world with that first line! :) This is a happy Oscar speech. But point being made is that, those words struck a deep chord and you may not know it!

I pass this on to - well, I am passing it on in spirit back to you both as well. But aside from that, I pass it on to:

Neera: She writes from the heart. There is such simplicity and warmth in her writing. Her life is an open book - well to the extent a blog can be - she says things without any strings attached. As is. Her recent post about her neighbors is testament to that. Very willing to appreciate people for who they are.

Usha: I love reading her posts. Quite often I read her posts and think - that's such an every day topic but it is so interesting when someone writes about it and that too in such an interesting way. There is a RKN kind of home grown/simple feel to her writing. You relate to it instantly especially if you are an Indian. But even if you aren't, you still relate to it because of the universality of some things that all people go through.

Terri: She has a unique style of writing. Nothing bombastic about her writing. Simple words strung together so elegantly. Her writing is so witty and different. And yet you can see the compassionate person (well, canine let's say) behind the writing.

Krishashok: I tried to not mention people who have already been awarded. But I am making an exception on this one - just so people who know my blog also get to read his blog posts. I don't even expect him to know he has been awarded yet again since I have not even commented on his posts. I don't particularly feel bad when I don't comment for the power bloggers (in my book - they post frequently, are quite dedicated to blogging and have a ton of people reading and commenting on their blog posts). In any case, the purpose of this award is to also promote other blogs. And for this reason, I wanted to put it in this list. I read his blog posts the first time one night and I found myself laughing loudly in the dead silence of the night. He is a brilliant writer and his posts are so incredibly different from any I have read so far.

Deponti: Some one with a zest for life and it shows in her writing. Variety of topics, different emotions, incredible pictures, poems, translations. I really enjoy reading her posts.

Poppins mom: She writes such candid posts - emotions, point of view, what ever it be - she says it as she feels it. And she writes in detail and you feel like you were there for that moment in time witnessing that slice of her life. It often reads like a story and I enjoy reading such posts. And she usually takes the time to respond to a lot of comments on her posts and it makes it all the more enjoyable to read her posts.

Kodi's mom: I love reading her posts about Kodi and Plane papa (recent addition). She writes with a gentle touch of humor and communicates the love she feels for her children in an understated way. I love understated emotions for some reason because I feel in some ways it conveys the strength of the emotion even more than plainly stated words. And the fact that our children are of a similar age group makes it even more enjoyable for me to read her posts.

Oh dear - rules rules rules every where! I am posting the rules at the end of this post - pass on the award and spread the cheer! :)

This award is for blogs whose content and design are brilliant as well as creative.The purpose of the prize is to promote as many blogs as possible in the blogosphere.
Here are the rules to follow:
1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back
2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing they were prized with ‘Brilliant Weblog’
4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
5. And then we pass it on!"


Phew - I managed to finish writing this post before one of the kids wakes up crying for me in the middle of the night. But I am too sleepy to sit and edit this post. Am posting it as it is - forgive me please!

Lightning strikes! Thrice!!!

I have been meaning to write a post for the last few weeks. But I have had a lot of summer guests and just been busy. I usually am able to write only at night after the kids have gone to bed but I have also been watching the Olympics and going to bed soon after that.

And man, what an Olympics so far! After a long time, I feel like I am a fan of some athlete. I don't know, somehow I never was so enamored by some sports performance for a long time now. But I sat down to watch the 100m sprint and I was struck by lightning! Sheesh! Is that a human or a super human zipping through earth?! Lightning Bolt - he doesn't even show any nerves before a race! He does a cool dance, gets on track, races like the wind and makes it look so unbelievably easy! Three golds and three records! Now if this turns out to be a case of doping, I think I will go into depression from just cynicism after that. But I really don't think it is a case of doping. He simply is out of this world! What I love about the Olympics, especially the track events is the testing of human ability and endurance. And the drama of it all. The hope, the joy, the heart break, the competition, the crowds, the festivity...years of training for those few moments of competition. Sometimes it seems absurd, pointless in the face of all other human suffering that needs more attention. But while you are there watching it, you can't help but marvel and be moved by the human spirit and its tenacity.

I watched in awe each time Phelps snatched a gold medal. Is it luck? I mean this guy won by one hundredth of a second. Does luck also favor talent and hard work? Well, that's just one medal. But he is clearly a phenomenon. Little did I expect one more legend was coming up in the next set of events in track. Legend indeed! I am just glad to have been able to witness this kind of magic on track as and when it happened. How I wish I could have witnessed it live! One would think you cannot get any better than M.Johnson's record of 19.32 in the 200m race. And there he comes and breaks the record at 19.30, this with a head wind! How far can human endurance go? Can there be yet another person a few years from now who can do it in even lesser time? They thought MJ's record would stay for another 100 years. 12 years later, it's gone. A new impossible record has been set.

I was joking with my friend that I am now going to start feeding KG and KB a lot more yams (since Bolt's father credits his yam diet!). KB who watches the Olympics with me recognizes Bolt and whenever he is shown on TV he says, "Bolt Uncle Mamma! Bolt Uncle dhan fast! He is the winner of the race!" (In the same tone he uses for his "Lightning McQueen" cars book). I was telling my friend, "I am definitely a fan of Bolt now, I am going to make "2163" tee shirts for the kids". And she said, "You should make "I YAM a fan" tees for them". I think I will! Will be a cool tee shirt! But few may understand what it is about - but track and field fans will surely enjoy it!

Anyways - managed to write this while KB and KG are napping - for a stretch after a long long time. KB especially keeps waking up and has been napping for just 25 min or so every afternoon. He seems to be fast asleep now as I write this. He starts school on Sep 10th. Am keeping my fingers crossed and hoping it will all go smoothly!

Have fun watching the rest of the Olympics and enjoy "Lightning" footage (the relay) tonight!

Birthday celebration

Kutti girl turned one on June 17.08. We didn't really have a formal party for her on that day. Her star date fell on July.3.08 - so we had an "Ayushomam" celebration for her at the local mandir. It was a really nice and warm gathering of about 30 people. Kids had a great time because I had taken balloons and couple of air pumps. They were all pretty engaged pumping the balloons with the older kids acting as leaders dispensing off different colored ones to the kids.

I had requested people to not bring any gifts and instead make a donation in honor of KG's birthday to St.Jude. I normally feel bad about making such requests because people actually want to give gifts for little children and see their excitement. I certainly do. But this time around, I felt KG was only a year old and she wouldn't care either way. I left it up to them to donate money or not. Many people were very happy to donate to St.Jude. Some of them anyway chose to give gifts for KG. But overall it was a satisfying feeling to have been able to send a good amount of money to a great organization in honor of KG's birthday.


For Kutti boy's birthday (or should I start calling him big boy now?), we had a small cake cutting event at home. It was not really a party - just cake and snacks in the evening. We had invited three of our friends and their kids who are also KB's friends. KB had a great time because the crowd was not overwhelming and the party didn't last too long nor did it have defined time limits as it would have been at party locations. We met at our place and had samosas and snacks, he cut the cake, the kids and parents sang a Sanskrit song wishing him and then the usual birthday song - KB was quite kicked by being the center of attention and had a smile on his face while they sang for him. The kids played in the yard with party hats and party horns and couple of coupe's I had out for them. The weather was awesome too. After an hour or so at home, we headed out to the park behind our place and had a bunch of bubble contraptions out for the kids. Some kids played on the slide and the others blew giant bubbles and made merry. The hard part was when parents had to somehow get these kids to go back home with them - they wanted to continue on with the bubbles and were not happy about having to go back home for dinner. And that set me on the traditional guilt trip - oh no, I should have made it a dinner party for every one - but in reality it would have been too much to organize a dinner party for so many people and yet keep it a low key, relaxing day for KB. Over all though, I was happy that the kids and KB had a nice time. BTW - the cake was a Winnie the Pooh cake as requested by KB. Every one really liked the cake. Dottie, the baking queen, no I did not bake it! :) I will get there some day! :)


Leaving you with a picture of KG sleeping on her favorite giant elephant and KB, the loving brother giving her company and resting on the elephant!

Happy birthday KB!

I have written a lot about KB this past week - all leading up to this day - his third birthday. My little baby is now a little boy...only now I am able to think of him as a little boy at least - not a baby. He is still very innocent in a lot of ways - partly because he has been home with me and only interacts with other children in my presence. I guess when he starts school, I can see him as his own person without any influence from me at least for a few hours every week.

Both B and I have felt the passing of time the last three years. I can hardly believe KB is three but I also don't feel like time flew by. So much happened in the three years and KB has been a part of it all. I see so much of my father in him and for this I am thankful. I wish for him as good a life as my father had - even if he had tough times in his childhood - my father was such a confident, self made, generous, jovial, well respected, sociable and kind person. I pray to God to keep KB healthy, happy and safe. I sure hope that all the wonderful qualities in him remain so always and don't get tarnished by the vagaries of experience as he grows up. I wish for him good friends, good teachers and good fortune. If at all I came to know what it is to feel love that cannot be put in words, it is only after I had KB. He makes a yelling monster out of me at times, trying my patience with his compulsive and obsessive nature at times. But when I look at his innocent face when he is sleeping or when he does the simplest of gestures - like gently patting my neck as soon as he over hears me telling B that my throat is aching - with utmost sincerity and faith that that simple act can actually "fix" the problem - his innocence and loving spirit touch me like nothing else does. At those times, I realize what it is to love your child in a way that words can't do justice. I sometimes wish to capture the essence of all that is KB and hold on to it and never let go - all that goodness preserved. But I know he will grow up - I wonder how he will look as a young teenager, a young man...what his tastes will be like...there is time for it all to happen. I wish for him the very best every step of the way and I do hope that divine grace that protects us all in ways that we don't even realize is there with him protecting him.

Happy birthday to my dear sweet KB!

KB's day - Friday - Aug.1.08

I found a little memo book in our shelf a few months back. In that notebook, on the last page, I had randomly jotted down precisely what KB did that day (when he was about 8m old). It was so much fun to read it. That he used to take two naps. I had written down what time he woke up and how many times he woke up that night. Having precise details like that somehow made me feel like I was going back in time and actually close to living out that snippet of the past. While I am on a roll with the KB series, I thought I would add that in here - KB's day - two days before he turns three.

Slept at 10.30 pm on July.31.08

Woke up at 12.30 am - crying loudly - because (I assume) he had a bad dream. Calmed down after me (angry) tried to pat him back to sleep and then finally after B took over and patted him back to sleep.

Around 4.00 am (I didn't hear it but B told me this morning) - apparently he laughed loudly - guffawed - for nearly a whole minute - looks like he had a funny dream!

7.30 am - woke up. Happy. Always waits for B to walk in and say "Rise and Shine" (after reading Elmo's "Rise and Shine" book, he has become fond of that phrase). Had 4oz milk in his bottle (yes, I don't really care to stop the bottle and move to sippy cup - I plan to do it when he starts school and gets comfortable with school - in my mind it's no big deal - bottle or sippy cup now - I know he will stop it soon enough).

9.00 am - cereal - Kix (main) with some coco puffs and whole milk

I then make their lunch, have my cereal while quickly scanning today's newspaper and come upstairs. Activate my new cell phone (while KB sits at the computer chair watching KG's Ayushomam videos - short one minute videos).
He is waiting for KG to wake up from her morning nap. In the meanwhile, he doodles in the card I have for B's dad - this is the Father's day card - still waiting to be mailed with a longish letter!

11.00 am - we walk in to see KG fully awake but happily lying down and waiting for us.
Nurse, change her, take KB to the bathroom. Get them both ready.

11.45 am - Head off to the store to buy some fruits and order KB's birthday cake (He wanted Winnie the Pooh). As always, soon after I finished buying fruits, he bugged me to get him yet another balloon from the balloon stand at the store. His innocent pleading eyes requesting me for a mere balloon - I just can't say no - it's just a little balloon I feel - so I indulge him and get it for him. Even though he has so many at home.

1.00 pm - Back home. KB had Motts Apple juice on the way back. Also gave him a few grapes while I got his and KG's lunch ready in the bowl. (Rice/Dal/Yellow Squash vegetable for lunch along with Danon La Creme Yogurt for KB).

1.20 pm - KG done with lunch.

1.30 pm - KB starts lunch. Done around 2.15 pm. No protests though. Read his new Eric Carle book I got at Kohls couple of days back. "Panda Bear Panda Bear, what do you see?". He loves it. Makes me read it twice back to back. Then read "Bob the builder" and "Rusty Red Wagon". (Each of them twice back to back - that's his new thing - read each book twice in a row!). Music in the background. After a long time he asked for Leonard Cohen again and played it while eating his lunch.

2.30 pm - Make my sandwich. Eat it while KB calls B like he usually does soon after his lunch and gives him the morning news. Where he went, what he did, blah blah...

2.40 pm - Give KG a bath. Change her. KB turns on the music. I leave her in the crib after getting ger dressed. He waits outside the door for me.

3.00 pm - Give KB his vitamin, sing "Mudakaratha Modakam" and make him nap on the little Elmo couch in the office room where the computers are.

3.15 pm - Go downstairs, make myself tea and come back up.

3.30 pm - Read email/respond/a couple of blog posts/news.

3.55 pm - KB is awake. I pat him back to sleep. Come back to my laptop. Two minutes later, he is awake. This has been going on for the past two weeks. He used to nap two hours but now he barely naps 30 to 45 min. I sure hope he doesn't loose his nap habit for another year. I still take the half an hour of nap for I can then drink my tea in peace.

I tell KB he should not get out of his bed before the big hand in the clock touches 12. He looks at the clock. Two min later - just around 4.00 pm - gets out of bed.

My friend calls and says she will drop by. KB is talking to me non stop. My close friend who has the week off calls me to chat since she doesn't have to be at work. Just then I decide to introduce KB to the "Starfall" site. Help him with navigating the site while talking to my friend.
10 min later, I take him downstairs for his afternoon milk. 8 oz Silk Soy Vanilla.

Come back upstairs since KG is awake and we hear her. Nurse/change KG. In the meanwhile, my friend has come by, rang the bell and I totally did not hear it. She leaves and later calls me after she gets home. KB, KG and I go downstairs. I do some putting away of toys. Since my friend is not coming, I decide to take KB and KG to the lagoon by the lake near our place. I get them ready, sandals on etc and start driving. Playing "Suprabatham" by A.R.Rahman (in the car) that another blogger had sent as an MP3. Go to the Lagoon and realize I forgot to bring the entry card with me. Drive back home and go to the park right behind our house. KB and KG play on the slide etc until 7.00 pm.

7.00 pm - KB has a bowl of grapes (about 15 grapes).

7.15 pm - feed KG her dinner. In the meanwhile, KB asks for water in his steel tumbler. Drinks some and finds a little bit of it splattered on the dining room floor. Immediately points to the spill on the floor and says, "Mamma, I had a great big spill, can you please clean it up?" and brings tissue on his own and starts cleaning up the spill.

7.40 pm - Give KB his dinner (Mac n cheese - easy Fridays meal).

8.15 pm - B is home. We decide to eat the left over pasta from two days back. I have an appointment for threading at 8.45 pm! I quickly eat another sandwich, get ready and left for my eyebrow appointment at 8.45 pm.

B said he was a little eager to know where I was but was calm otherwise. He cried some because he hit himself on the stairs a little. But over all when I got home (it's the first time I went alone in a long loong time). KB looked quite happy. As soon as I walked in the garage door he told me "Mamma eyebrowsS (that's his plural form) look pretty! (B told him casually once to tell me so and kid repeats it at the right time - as soon I get home!).


9.20 pm - am back home. Play balloon game and doodle pro scribbling with KB.

9.35 pm - KB has La Creme yogurt. No milk at night on Mac n Cheese days).

9.45 pm - cut KB's nails.

10.00 pm -B brushes KB's teeth.

10.15 pm - KB gives me a tight hug. The night time routine is for me to hug him tight and be talking to him while B brushes and come to get KB from me. And when B is done and is ready to take KB upstairs for bed time , he has to come to me (holding KB) and say "CanI CanI CanI" asking me to let go off KB. KB then gives me a hug and B takes him while KB laughs at being snatched from me by Daddy. KB says "Good night" to me and then says "Goodnight Lamp, good night stairs" and so son!

And now I am beginning to see lines in double, very sleepy now. So I have to say "good night" too!

KB series V: Even an angel can be high maintenance

I suppose by now you are wondering if this blog is going to be one big KB series! Well just until this coming Sunday. I decided to write about KB since I don't do monthly updates and thought it would be fun to read all this a few years later when KB is much more grown up.

I was not really planning on writing a post tonight. But reading the following comments made me want to write it:
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DotThoughts said...

I throughly enjoyed reading the series. especially the bit about balloons :) He is such a great kid!! And the way you wrote about him was so full of pride and joy in being his mother. Great posts!

7/31/2008 10:07 AM

The TAAMommy said...

As much as you want to give credit to your son, 90% goes to you girl. You seem like an amazing mom with amazing patience and endless attentiveness towards your children.It is first, wonderful to hear what he is upto, and second wonderful to see you so patiently write out all these details. Thank you !!

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The way I feel right now - completely exhausted mentally. And so full of worries about KB joining school this September. And feeling very guilty about how angry I was with KB this afternoon and how I yelled and fought with B this evening just because he joked about something I said to him seriously. A public acknowledgment that I am not being patient enough and it's not all joy and pride at KB all the time as the previous posts might suggest.

Things that worry me - that he is such a friendly/sociable kid - but he still has to have the "Noon" radiation (meaning mama be around) in the general vicinity or he gets flustered. He will go out with B to a shop or park but if I go out leaving him home - he gets flustered after half an hour or so. I have made the mistake of not doing this often enough. He used to be OK for a couple of hours if I left home when he was asleep. He would not cry when he woke up if he didn't find me in the house. But since KG arrived, somehow between her nursing schedule and KB's nap times etc I don't go out alone on weekends. And week days, there is hardly time to do so since B gets home around 8.15 pm.

I have been taking KB for a "Parent and Toddler" class at the school he will be attending in September. It meets once a week for two hours in the morning. I thought it would help him get familiarized with his new school. There are two rooms (for this class) connected by a hallway. One room has foam steps/slide, a wooden boat like see-saw, a tunnel etc. The other room has two round tables with little chairs, peg puzzles, a tent, a tiny little bed with little toy babies resting on it, a play kitchen etc. First ten minutes before class, they are allowed to play outside. But it gets hot and the summer school kids come to the play ground, so the PT (parent/toddler) kids have to go into the classroom. KB has no interest in painting in this class. He enjoyed it when we came to register etc because in the main campus of the school, they have the easel in the corridor and paints and paper etc set up. He just plays with the paint, enjoys it etc. But here may be because the kids are all sitting close to each other and painting - he doesn't want to do it. And even the puzzles he brings to the tunnel room and does it in no time so he really just doesn't want to do anything in the other craft room. So pretty much all the time both KB and KG want to continuously play in the tunnel room. She too has no interest in playing with toy babies or kitchen play or anything. Even blocks both kids are not interested in if they have to be in the other room. I really don't know if this means KB has no interest in craft/painting or if it's something about the room. In any case, he just hates paint getting on his fingers - even if a tiny dot falls on his fingers, he wants me to wash his hands with water! Even wiping it off is not enough. It has to be back to totally clean. Just the way my father was. Preschools here do so much art and craft work that I really hope he develops an interest in it!

The PT class has a about 10 min of snack time. Today the teacher somehow delayed it and I too had to rush KB through his breakfast that I think he became very hungry all of a sudden. He went to the craft room (where snacks are served) but couldn't spot me - since I was trying to grab KG and come to the snack room. He kept calling out for me and there were a couple of other tall moms next to him - in an instant - he got so flustered, he started crying. Until then he was this happy camper jumping up and down, being totally silly and having fun. Laughs and plays and doesn't realize he is hungry and suddenly loses all energy and just feels low. Just like me. I worry what he will do when this happens at school. He should learn to go tell the teacher he is hungry - but if he just cries for no reason it will be hard on him and the other kids in the classroom. He insisted that his hands be washed with water and soap in the classroom sink and not the outside sink. Because that is what he did the other times and for snack time he thinks he has to only wash his hands in this sink.

KB is a stickler for routine. Just like my father. Things have to be done a certain way. There was a long line for the classroom sink and he was hungry and I was holding KG. I was losing my patience at his fussiness regarding which sink. I tried hard to control my anger and asked him to come to the sink outside. This is what hunger does to him - make him unreasonable. He cried even more when I tried to get him to go outside. I was so upset and embarrassed at all this. Felt sad because his being a stickler for routine is going to come back to make it difficult on him when I am not around. I know, precisely why he is going to school. But just makes me worry. "What should I have done to make him be a little loose and relaxed when it comes to such things?", I think to myself. Things you tolerate as a mother, will not be tolerated by an outsider, especially a teacher who has many kids to attend to. I felt very tired myself from having run to school early in the morning after getting both kids ready and having had just a glass of milk for breakfast. I just felt sad that I had somehow not trained KB to be more relaxed about such things - dirt in his hands, things in place in a certain order, wetness etc.

Another high maintenance (HM) thing about KB is that he will have to wipe off his tears or if his nose is dripping with a tissue immediately. Nose, I understand. But if he is crying, he will keep asking me to wipe off his tears. And then point to his nose and say " Tissue! It's dripping!!!".. Sometimes, I spend so much time wiping off his tears and nose drip back to back that I just want to throw the tissue box out and tell him to go sulk in a corner! It's a good thing he doesn't go around with snort dripping out of his nose but he takes it to the other extreme sometimes. Tests my patience big time. I do it a few times back to back patiently. Wipe of tears, then the nose drip...back again...and then I just loose it. He did this in class this morning while waiting for the sink. I yelled at him - if you want me to keep doing this, we are going home KB!

Clean, orderly, no wetness at any point in time, routines have to be followed exactly, needs mamma around, very restless sleeper, slow eater - don't you think my dear KB, the sweet, gentle, well mannered kid is also high maintenance? I am sure you (hopefully someone will get this far in this post!) think I am making a big deal - but you have to come here and see how difficult and insistent he can be on some of these things.

So Dottie and Taamommy - It's not all pride and I too yell and scream - quite bad considering he is good in so many ways. I feel like I have so little patience. I can tolerate the work but I just cannot stand too much crying at any point in time. I need to learn to control my temper with KB when it comes to these things. It's been a long day today, am falling asleep, before I give away too much about what I screaming monster I can be at times, I better stop here for now!

KB series - part IV

KB is a chatter box. Well, at least at home and with the people he is familiar with. He talks non stop, especially with me. Every little thing he does is reported to me. Every little thing KG does is also reported to me. All day live commentary. "Mamma, I am now eating my grapes, Mamma". "Mamma, I hear a lawn mower". "Mamma, Kutti baby is trying to get into the fire place". And so it goes. He is also into the cause and effect conversation now. He just will run through an entire imaginary script. If I am reading a library book for him and he turns the page and sees some doodle marks made by some other kid - he will look at me and point to it. I then have to tell him "Ahn Ahan...not good, some kid has scribbled on the library book". And he will say "Library Aunty"...and I have to continue that prompt by saying "Library Aunty will be upset.". KB will then say, "Library Aunty solluvaa" (she will say..). And I have to then take it through the whole thread with him. "Library Aunty will tell the kid not to scribble and if he does she will give him a time out etc " with each line being prompted by him. At the end he will say, "Indha maari scribble pannlai naa?" and I have to say, "If the kid doesn't scribble, then Library Aunty will be happy and will not give that boy a time out"! If I am reading him the book "Hats can help" and he sees a picture of a fire woman wearing a hat, he will tell me "Fireman hat pottukalainaa?" and I have to tell him the repurcussions of that. He will then say, "Fireman hat pottundaa?" and I have to tell him how the hat will help! Sometimes it is fun, but sometimes it gets so tiring to go through this for so many things! But I do indulge him and spin stores for all his cause and effect queries!

KB is one dramatic little fellar! He himself likes to use the word "dramatic" and says "KB is dramatic". Some days when we return from the park or some song and dance class, he would be hungry. But he wouldn't be able to tell me so. He will ask me for something I can't get to and if I don't attend to him, he would just come to me and say "I am sad, mamma" and tell me "I have tears in my eyes mamma...can you please wipe with tissue?". And he will go and get me a tissue. Our kid is green when it comes to turning lights off during day time - a point driven into him by me quite a bit - but when it comes to tissues - he is far from green. My fault. He cannot stand a drop of water or nose drip or tears flowing that each time he will get me a tissue or wipe it off himself.

B and I have arguments in front of him - though I tell myself that we should not fight it front of him - but it is impossible - we just do. We don't get any time to just talk to each other after KB goes to bed - so arguments also happen along with other conversation in front of the kids. KG is too young to understand but KB knows when we fight. He intervenes and tells us to calm down! And even if I so much as raise my voice, he will tell me, "Mamma, kathadhe mamma" (don't shout) and come to me and say "I will give you a hug and thadavi" (hug and pat). I sometimes jokingly tell him "Kutti baby romba paduthardhu, I am going to give her two odhais" (KG is troubling me, I am going to give her two whacks). Gandhi that he is, he will tell me "No, no no, Kutti baby'ku odhe kudukadhe...Nee kutti baby'ku odhe kudutha naa romba sad ayiduven". (Don't give her a whack, if you do, I will become sad). He is so kind to her, it just makes me feel so overwhelmed with pride. I feel like "How did I, the screaming monster that I am at times produce such a sweet and gentle kid?". It's not that he doesn't get upset or yell and cry, but he is so kind hearted when it comes to any one else getting hurt. I really hope that he is able to protect himself though. It really worries me when I think of bully kids in school. I really wonder if he will know to defend himself! He starts school in September 08 - have to just wait and see how his gentle temperament changes with outside influences and having to cope with physically stronger kids.

To be continued...

KB series - part III

KB loves to be silly. Silly silly silly and amuses himself and laughs non stop which sometimes makes him throw up from coughing a little! For example, I would be cooking in the kitchen and he would be sitting in the living room couch playing by himself. All of a sudden, he would come into the kitchen and say, "Mamma...Pum"! I would look up at him and say "Pum?" and he would say "Pum, Mamma!" and have this twinkle in his eyes. "What do you mean Pum? Pum'naa yenna? (what is it?)". That's it, I just have to say that and he would laugh and laugh at having come up with something I didn't understand. Just some non sense word! Today's such nonsense word was "Agali". After he brushed his teeth and was waiting for B to take him upstairs for his bedtime, he was sitting on the kitchen counter top with me standing in front of him when he said, "Mamma, Agali". I looked up and said seriously, forgetting that he comes up with such nonsense, "Yenna Agali?" and he said "Agali Mamma!" and started laughing! After dinner when we lounge for a bit listening to music, he would suddenly come to me and start singing nonsense words really fast..."Filikicha Filikicha Filikicha fil..i..kicha..." and so on...or would say "Lalaga Laga Laga Lagale Lagale" and so on!

A post on KB would not be complete without mentioning his obbbbsession with balloons. I can hardly believe that a kid can be this amused by balloons and not loose interest in playing with them. He now has two hand pumps and four bags of different types of balloons - long and twisty balloons, worm ballons, squiggly balloons, orange balloons, lavendar balloons, punch balloons - you name it - what ever kind "Party city" sells. Well, I still have not gotten him the water balloons - but that is to preserve my own sanity from having to clean up or having KG fall down from water spills! But yes, he loves to pump air into the balloon with his hand pump and just release it and see how it goes...he plays finger tap with knotted balloons. But mostly it is the pump air and release game. Some slither like snakes on the ground (the worm balloons) and some fly like a rocket to the other end of the room - but in all the balloons entertain him every single day for at least 15 minutes minimum! I wonder when he will loose interest in playing with balloons!

To be continued....

KB series - part II

KB seems inclined to experiment with things in general. Today, kutti girl found a water bottle of mine (from the hospital during my delivery) - she pulled out the plastic straw from it and was playing with it. The straw also has a tiny lid to cover it. KG was playing with it and tried blowing air into it to make some sound. When KB got hold of the straw from her, he did the same. But he closed the lid and told me, "Mamma, look at this" and showed me how there is no sound if he closed the lid on the other end and then blew air into it. Then he took his hand pump (for balloons) and inserted the straw into it and pumped air into it, so it made strong sounds each time he pumped. It was fun watching him do these things on his own and enjoying himself with his little discoveries.

KB minds his manners quite a bit I should say! Not that I explicitly taught him to say any of these courtesy words. He seems have to just picked up from watching us say it. Like saying "Bless you" when we sneeze - I never ever taught him to say that. Now if I miss saying it, he tells me "Mamma, I just sneezed. Bless you chollu!". And say I have a plate of snacks laid out for Kutti girl, he will look at me and ask, "Can I have some too?" and only then take from her plate! And when he wants water, he will come to me and say, can you please give me some water?".

KB's infamous eating - or should I say non eating - habits are much the same. Well, at least the violent protests and me having to shove food down his throat to get him going etc have stopped. Now we have a very mature exchange in this regard. When he says enough, I just stop. Sometimes I ask him if he can have 5 more small spoonfuls and he agrees. But that's about it. He is still thin - but as long as he is active I accept it a little better now. I still worry that he does not try new foods easily, will not eat rice meals on his own for sure (at least the others have some chance) and he is in general a difficult one with respect to eating.

KB's personality just shines through best in his role as (little) big brother to KG. He has been so welcoming of her from day one and has been so gracious in allowing B and I to be affectionate towards her and showering his affection on her as well. It truly is a proud moment for me each time I see him just pour, literally pour his love out to her so innocently. When he wakes up from his afternoon nap, he will ask for "Kutti baby" (KG) and the two of us will open the door to where she is sleeping...and I will then sit down on the bed to nurse her. He will immediately lie down next to her chatting away with me about this and that all while holding her hand. She too will pat his head or pinch his nose while nursing! He has literally saved me by alerting me that KG "escaped" to the stairs when I was in the kitchen (barricades in place - but she managed to squeeze her way out). And another time, she was playing with his top on the tiled floor. I just went to the kitchen for a maximum of 15 seconds to get his yogurt from the fridge. I heard KB immediately warn me "Kutti baby top'a vai'le pottunthu!" (Kutti baby has put the top in her mouth!).

Every morning, KG wakes up earlier than KB. B takes her out of our room and goes downstairs and keeps her there until we (me and KB) wake up an hour later. It is so hard for me to believe - but KG just knows - when it is around 7.00 am, she will start screaming (not crying) and generally act very restless because she will want to come upstairs to see us both. As soon B drops her on our bed, she will come to me and climb over me and go on to KB's bed. The same thing happens in the afternoons. She and KB just roll and push and play in his little toddler bed. Then I pretend to me "Mamma Monster" and suddenly attack KB telling him "Mamma Monster wants to bite and chew and eat KB" and just jump onto his bed tickling him a little with my head. He just laughs loudly and then KG joins in and the three of us just frolic rolling and jumping in the bed for some more time before we get ready and go to the park.

To be continued...

KB series !

KB will turn three on Aug.3.08. I wanted to write down things about him for myself because by next year he would have changed so much that I would forget so many little details about him. And I find that I have so many things to write about him that this post is going to be very long. So I decided to post it in two or three parts. I don't expect you to find it all very interesting but it's out there for you in case you do find it interesting!

I think back to the day I saw the two lines on the home test. I distinctly remember B coming back from work and me telling him about the home test and I felt blood rushing to my face. Me, a mother?! I could not believe that I was going to enter that world - the other side - from being carefree to becoming responsible for another human being. I was going to experience the miracle of feeling a life growing in me and giving birth - it really felt exhilarating for that one instant. There are very few instances in my life when I have felt that kind of exhilaration. KB, my little baby who brought me into that wonderful world of motherhood first - he is now going to be three. So much has happened since he came into my life. The best being the arrival of his dear sister KG and the saddest being the passing away of my father and B's mother. And KB has been with me already sharing in his own way such important moments in my life. KB, my first born, my heart, my inspiration in kindness and compassion - is now a little boy!

When KB was born, tons of people who saw his picture emailed me or called my mother or B and told us that he was a carbon copy of me in looks. My friend just could not stop raving to my mother as to how could it even be possible for a newborn to look so exactly like his mother! And this trend continues even now - so many people who see him say, "Gosh, he looks JUST like you!". I just cannot see the resemblance at all - though I believe he does resemble me. There is also a lot of my personality in him according to B. Well, he is just like you in every thing B says. That scares me a lot. I don't want him to be like me in a lot of things - but I hope I learn to accept it if that is the case!

KB also takes after my father in some things. My father was a very sociable and jovial person. He had the habit of making friends out of co passengers during a journey by striking a conversation even with the most serious looking ones. KB does the same. If I take him to Kohls or Target with me and I pause to look at some clothes, he walks to the nearest person and says, "Excuse me"...and the person says, "Yes? Hiii?". KB then says, "This is KB and that is my sister KG. And Daddy has gone to office!". And if they are kind enough to ask him more questions, he gladly tells them his whole life story. "I like to read books. I like to read "When Daddy travels" book" and on and on he goes. My father was an extremely clean person. KB takes after him in that. Sometimes it borders on obsessive and it really upsets me at times. If a small drop of paint touches his finger, he will make me wipe it with wet tissue or water, if not, he will not continue what he was doing. And when I am feeding him his meal, if a drop of food is stuck to his chin, I have to wipe it, if not he will not open his mouth for the next spoon of food. My father always remembered people and incidents well. He could tell me events that happened in his childhood down to the finest detail. KB too suddenly talks about some incident that happened six months back about which we never talked about since it happened. I guess this is how my father makes his presence felt in my life.

KB is kindness and compassion personified. Well, he does have moments when he yells at KG - but that too is largely my fault - he sees me yell at her sometimes - so he too shouts out her name when she grabs his balloon or pen etc. But say if B and I are in the midst of an argument and I am on the verge of tears and I thump my palm on my fore head and plonk on the sofa looking sad, he comes to me and gives me a hug and says "I will give you a hug...don't kochi (yell) Daddy, mamma!" And he gives me a kiss. With his eyes nearly tearing up, he asks me to bend down to his level and he rubs my fore head because that's where I hit myself when I sat down. If KG grabs something from him, he will shout and scream - things he learned from having to deal with this constantly - but he still will not be violent with her. And many times, he will give her what she wants and look at me and say "Kutti baby wants my balloon" like he is much older than her! If he even over hears a conversation about his cousin or someone being sick, he will just worry about it and ask about it over and over. And if I even hint of some pain, he will just keep asking about it until I tell him I am OK. He is so compassionate and kind that I sometimes worry that he will get hurt if he continues to be that way even when he grows up. But let's hope that he will continue to be that way because the world does need more of those!

KB has a thoughtful look in his eyes most of the time and often spaces out to imagine situations we tell him about or that he reads in his books. He loves to read and has an amazing memory for the books he reads. He knows his alphabets but doesn't know to read yet. But he can read every page of a book like "Me too Iguana" verbatim. Even if I miss one word and say "Iguana saw Lion getting his hair trimmed", he will correct me and say "Iguana saw Lion getting his MANE trimmed" stressing on where I went wrong. He does the same with his music CDs. He knows the order of songs in all his favorite CDs and as soon as one song is about to finish he tells me which one would be coming next. He has some favorite songs that he likes to listen to many times in a day but in general he will not let me stop a song in the middle and forward it to his favorite song. His current top favorite is "There's a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza". He will tell me "Indha song mudinjutom, appram we can play that song". He still has not caught on to the TV bug but I figured once he joins school, if he asks to watch some good programs on TV, I will let him watch for a little while - until then I just let it be.

(To be continued).

KB speak

Me: KB, am going to bite you and bite you and bite you...

KB - No, Mamma, only mosquito can bite...you don't bite...
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Me: KB, can I gobble you up?

KB: NO, no no, only turkey can do gobble gobble...
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Me: KB!!!! STOP doing that (if he acts crazy while eating - often leading to throwing up because he is laughing with food in his mouth).

KB: Mammmmaaa, Mammma...(as if to a child) - I don't want to stop Mamma...only Daddy will stop at a red light!

Me - still keeping a stern face.

KB - Mamma? You happy? Can you smile? (things I say to him when he looks upset!)
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Me : While sitting casually at the couch after dinner: KB, Why did you trouble Mamma today? Kutti baby was crying because she hurt herself. Why did you cry? You should not have cried like that for no reason. You should have helped Mamma...I am disappointed KB!

KB: Mamma, I am kidding!

Me: You're kidding?

KB: Mamma, nee chollu, I am kidding! (Mamma, you say "I am kidding")!

Me: No dear, I am not kidding, I am serious, why did you trouble Mamma?

KB: Mamma, Nee chollu mamma, I am kidding chollu! (Tell me you are kidding Mamma!).
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Me: While patting and singing "Ganesh Pancharatnam" as always for his afternoon nap and seeing him keeping his eyes wide open at the end of the song : KB!! Close your eyes!! Close!!!

KB: Closing his eyes mutters - Mamma - I am going to throw "close" in the garage! You should not say close.
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Me: While getting him ready to go out and him running wildly to the couch and jumping on top of it: KB, come right now! If not, I am going to leave you and go!

KB: Not liking my loud tone: NO!! Mamma!! I am going to throw "leave you" in the vacuum cleaner...adhu appdiye odanju poidum! (Leave you will break into pieces). I am going to throw it into the sky! Reach'e panna mudiyadhu! (can't reach it!).
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The challenges with caring for the elderly

I read this blog recently and forwarded it to my sisters. On second thoughts I think I should forward it to my usual list of people that I mail interesting articles to, because this is something every one has to face - either themselves when they grow older or if they have aging parents or relatives to take care of now. The astounding number of comments from readers is a reflection of a real issue that both care takers and the elderly face in their old age.

My father passed away Jan'07. As the youngest child in a family of six siblings, the first five close in age to each other, I was in the unique position of seeing my parents in their old age when I was still fairly young compared to my siblings or even a lot of my friends. Even my sister who is the fifth in the family is seven years older than me. Yeah, I was clearly an accident. My mother is sweet enough to tell me that it is probably my luck that my father led such a good life until the day he died - this is when I tell her how good their life would have been had they not had me at all. Five kids would have been settled and they could have relaxed in their old age much sooner.

"At least he didn't suffer...just two days of pneumonia and he passed away", my mother says to console herself and us when she talks about my father's passing away. I too thank heavens for that. It would have been unbearable to see my independent, active, confident father become totally dependent had he come back home with lung complications with an oxygen tank. My parents were staying with my brother and sister-in-law at that time. They (and us visiting them) would have surely taken good care of him - but every one would have been stretched to the limits particularly my mother. And my father would not have coped well emotionally if he had to depend on any one for his basic functioning. In that sense, I think we were blessed that we did not have to see him suffer and that he passed away with dignity. I wish for my mother a long and healthy life. If my father was active, she is super active. And super emotional. And can spiral into absolute negativity on the rare occasion that she is even down for a couple of days with fever. I pray to God that she should never suffer or become physically dependent on any one in her old age.

My mother-in-law was a heart patient - she had a congenital heart defect that was diagnosed only at age 50 or so by when it was too late to operate on her and be sure of fixing it. She too had phenomenal energy and has really awed many cardiologists with her energy despite her weak heart. She became physically weak in the last month before her death. She was very exhausted physically and at that point I used to have sleepless nights wondering what we should do - should we move right away back to India or should we wait for a month or two to see if she gets back to normal and is able to travel to the US in which case they were both willing to be with us and get a Green card? But before we could even get to such decisions, she suddenly passed away. My FIL too talks in the same vein and says that he is just glad that she passed away rather than come back home physically incapacitated.

My FIL is a diabetic patient but is quite active and self sufficient thus far. He will be moving to the US - he just got his GC - with plans of eventually getting his citizenship since both his children (my husband and his sister) are in the US. He will be living with us for the most part. I have two very young children and coping with all the work including cooking meals on time is just barely manageable. Nearest family for us is a five hour drive. Some friends yes, but all have two young children, so can't even imagine asking them for any help unless absolutely necessary during an emergency. It gives me the shivers to think how we would cope if there was a dire emergency. Not just my FIL, for that matter none of us can afford to be in anything less than the best of health at this point. Even on rare occasions when B has sprained his shoulder, it was hard because that meant at night I would have to attend to both kids all night.

Back to the main point, caring for an older person is something that requires patience - almost like caring for a child. But caring for an older person who is physically dependent requires patience, courage, stamina and will. A strong will and a sense of duty - for even love falters if there is no will during tough times. I have seen even young couples where one person had to go through cancer therapy where the marriage was really tested. No wonder they say "In sickness and in health" during wedding vows.

Some of the comments in this post are really sad and heart breaking. A few of them may come across as heartless. But mostly you can see that the children/siblings of these elderly people are trying their very best with their heart and soul to provide them with good care. Still it can stretch a person to the limits. Especially in this country where there is no neighbor walking in randomly to check on you and give a few minutes of break. Even when I take care of the two kids, if I need to quickly go out and get some milk, I will have to take both kids along. It would be no different with an older person who needs constant care and attention.

I wonder how many of us have thought about our own old age. I tell B that I never want to be dependent on our children financially. But what if our health fails? That thought then brings me closer to the reality of how it might feel to be in a totally different world of assisted living. Not that that is bad. But somehow I have this mental image of living in a bread and breakfast inn except that that would be home, not a vacation stay. Breakfast at set times, living by rules set by the nurses. All reasonable, yet so different from the feeling of home.

I saw my friend and her two siblings struggle horribly in taking care of their father who deteriorated from Alzheimer's. She with her two very young children, her sibling on the other coast and one in the UK, all with relatively young children - together struggled to give him good care. Her mother once called me when I actually did not have much time to talk. But I could not hang up on her at all. It was heart breaking. At some point, she did not really care if I was even listening. She just wanted the feeling of someone who had the time to listen to her. I just forgot about what I had to do and just listened. I did not utter a word other than "Uhm, Uhm" for a whole hour if you can believe it. She was like a prisoner in a foreign world. There was no world outside of caring for her husband for her. Holding him back from running out of the house in the middle of the night, waking up in panic hearing him turn on the stove in the kitchen or hearing him shower in the middle of the night or soil his clothes quite unaware of what he was doing. It was wrenching to even hear of all this from her. In some ways, much as she terribly misses her husband, and the children their father, there is a feeling of liberation from the stress they were all going through at that point. Having to provide care in such situations especially when you have your own dependent children to take care of can really make or break relationships. Between the spouse of the caregiver, between siblings. One can only hope that through it all, you come out stronger and not broken in spirit.

I think of my father and again feel a sense of relief as I write about what my friend's father went through. And I realize it is a blessing to have a good life and as much of a blessing to have a good death. I only wish people were at least spared the unfairness of physically debilitating illness in their old age. These days if I hear of someone old who went to bed and never woke up, I can't help but think of that person as truly blessed.

Painted in 05...

A long time ago, I can't even remember in what context, I had mentioned that I would post a picture of a couple of water colors I had done for KB just before he arrived. I was looking for some photos in my laptop folders yesterday when I spotted a photograph of the three water colors I had painted. Since I have not posted in a while, I figured I would post this to get me started on a real post soon.
I looked at some cards with animal art in some children's website and did these. It was just for fun, nothing out of the ordinary! In my mind, the theme was of the "big" ones bowing to the "little" ones!

Matters of the heart

On Saturday, as I was feeding KB his cereal, my brother called me. I didn't know it was him, but since I could not really talk then, I let it go to the answering machine. I suddenly heard his voice, crying, as he began his message. Those moments are the worst. You wonder what happened and your mind races into all kinds of fearful thoughts. I ran and grabbed the phone. He told me that one of our family friends had suddenly died of a heart attack. Now this is not someone we were actively in touch with. But whenever we all met up at weddings or functions, we talked to each other with that sense of familiarity and liberty that only comes with people who are part of your childhood. Both of us were feeling quite miserable about this news. I hung up with my brother and called out to B and asked him to continue feeding KB. KB would normally refuse but somehow he sensed that I was upset about something and allowed B to take over. I ran upstairs to call the wife of our friend who had passed away. She is one of the sweetest people I know and quite young too - it was heart breaking for me to think she would have to now get on with life without her husband. She has a good job so at least she will be very busy and that will help ease the pain. Nevertheless, this kind of void never goes away.

We (our family) used to stay in a large rented house when I was a little baby. Now, A, the person who passed away in what would be considered midlife in this modern day, has known me since I was a little baby. He had his own business and was a talented Mridangist who played for top artists in his time. He was so casual about it. After many years of not being in touch with him I had some email exchanges with him in 06. So really speaking we hardly had any contact with him directly. But to think he passed away was so painful for both me and my brother - we are the ones who were more in touch with all of them.

Sometimes you don't actively keep in touch with a person, don't think about them often. But when you do think about them, there is so much comfort in knowing they are there, a phone call away if you wanted to talk to them. Sadly, we often don't exercise it. And then they are gone. A sense of order in life is shaken up when the person suddenly is no more. A piece of your childhood is gone. It is not just him. I have had the misfortune of losing two very close friends - one to an impulsive act of anger and frustration a few years after his tumultuous marriage (he survived for a month and passed away), the other friend J, to a brain embolism. J was a physician herself and was supposed to go on her rounds at the research hospital she worked at - when she didn't show up - they went to her room to find her on the floor. She was my very close friend - I had lost touch with her for nearly two years. I thought of her so many many times, yet never picked up the phone to call her. One day I decided I just HAD to call her and looked her name up on the internet when it came up in a website for a funeral home. Everything matched to her name - but I could not believe it at all for I was in utter shock. J? J? J? I was shaking all over. I hit myself (not literally) a thousand times for not having been in touch with her. How could this have happened? She had died a year back and I didn't even know. She was an utterly brilliant student and the apple of her father's eye. The first child amongst three and she made her parents feel so proud of her. She went to top schools and excelled in whatever she took up. She used to tell me that her mother used to take her to so many classes when she was in school and that her life was so busy. She slogged all her life and just when her career had reached a point where she was reaping the fruits of her hard work, she was taken away from this world ruthlessly without warning. And the worst part, I didn't even know. I could not get in touch with any one in her family to know what had happened. No one picked up the phone or replied to my letter. Finally I wrote to her research advisor at the university where she was a fellow and he told me what had happened. Knowing what had happened is the best closure I could get. I never got a chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

Somehow now I feel nervous when I hear a voice breaking up on the answering machine - I fear the worst. Death is so final, an uncompromising phenomenon that those left behind have to contend with and have no choice in the matter. You are left with memories, you know you have to go on. Even in the worst of cases - mother, father, spouse, even the most cruelest of all, death of a child, people find ways to go on. Because they just have to. There is no choice in the matter. But each time I think of some of the people who have gone in the last five years or so, relatives or friends, I wish for one chance to talk to them again...knowing it will never be.

There is more fear in my system now that I am a mother of two children and am so deeply attached to my husband and children. I have forgotten how carefree I used to be as a student, not really thinking much about death. I used to drive between two states, alone, late at night never really afraid of what if I had an accident. Now I think of what my children will do without me and I am more careful about such things. I have now dealt with the loss that comes from losing close ones and I find myself fearing the loss of people I feel I can't even live without. I tell myself I should make more of an effort to be in frequent touch with people, but am also unable to live life thinking that a certain person might be gone, hence I should be in touch. You just take life in stride and you write when you feel like it. I am able to accept the death of people who have had a full life and passed away in the natural cycle that life is supposed to be. But when people die young somehow it is so hard to accept.

Many of you may have followed this news about the death of Tim Russert, the "Meet the press" anchor. He suddenly died of a heart attack. This is someone who could afford and got the best care needed to be in good health. And supposedly he did exercise and did his bit to maintain his health. And there is so much controversy now if his death could have been prevented had they used a defibrillator on time. And as I read this I think to myself that I don't even know how to use a defibrillator. If it is so important to administer it in time to save a life, I should take a CPR course and learn it. Because there are a couple of people I know who are diabetic, have high cholesterol and lead stressful lives. A part of me wants to be fatalistic and think, if this can happen to Tim Russert, it can happen to anyone. But statistics show otherwise. Proper and timely care especially in the cases of stroke and heart attacks have definitely saved lives.

The other day B went to drop off my niece at her college. On his way back he was stuck in traffic due to a seven vehicle collision on the freeway. It had happened just as he entered the freeway. Probably seconds after. He came home close to midnight. I was annoyed that he got stuck in the traffic delay but mostly I was just thankful he got home. It turned out the two people who died in that accident were rear passengers who had not worn their seat belts and had been ejected and thrown out on the freeway. Two lives lost thanks to not wearing a seat belt. Gives me the shivers if I think about how many of my own family members don't wear their seat belts just because they are sitting in the back seat.

What is the point of this post? I guess there is no real point. But the hope that at least when we read about such things, we will do what we can to prevent needless loss of life. For when a life is lost, it is impossible to get it back. And yes, what prompted this post was the death of our young friend to heart attack and the memories of a few other people I lost in recent years came flooding back. I shall stop here for every day matters beckon me now.

Kutti girl turns one!

B and I woke up to KG calling out to us as she always does from her crib this morning. For a second we forgot that today was her birthday. I nursed her and passed the cozy bundle that she is on to B. He took her downstairs and I went back to sleep. An hour later, B brought her back into the room (this is our usual routine) when KB woke up. As she came crawling to my lap from the edge of the bed, I suddenly exclaimed to B, "Oh my God, it is her first birthday!". My excuse is that I was really sleepy when I woke up at 5.30 am because KG woke up three times unusually last night to nurse and I had to wake up to take KB to the bathroom too.


From that moment on, I have been so aware of this feeling that she is now a one year old. One! Not 3m or 6m - she is one! I can hardly believe it. When KB turned one I felt like I noticed the time passing by. With her, time just flew by. Last year this time, I was in the hospital, just having delivered her. The dramatic, lightning arrival of this little tigress! That's what we call her these days. She is bold, strong willed, confident, playful, affectionate, expressive and utterly delightful to us. And in her own way she is calm, composed and patient. I can hardly believe sometimes how she has a distinct personality at such an early age. I remember how KB's pediatrician told me during his 3m check up, "You try to remember all his infant personality traits...twenty years from now, you will think back and say, yes, he was that way even as an infant". He didn't mean that people don't change, but there is some distinct personality that is so inherent to the person that you can observe at a very early age.

During my second pregnancy, when I was about to go for the ultrasound that would also give me a hint of the gender of the baby, I had no expectations. I was OK with a girl or a boy. If I had any thoughts, it was just that I wanted the baby to be healthy. It was quite the opposite during my first pregnancy, I actually was sure it would be a girl, I only dreamed of a girl and wanted a girl child. And it turned out to be a boy at that time. For the second child, when the doctor told me (it was at 13 weeks I think, very early on) that he is 80% sure that it would be a girl, I had no feelings either way . He was a very experienced and funny Japanese doctor. Later when it was confirmed that it would be a girl baby, I just took it in stride. I didn't think much of it. It was my sister who e-mailed me saying how special it is to have a girl child and how much she enjoys having a daughter (she is now in high school). I would have been very happy had it been another boy. But now that I have kutti girl, I can see why my sister sent me that email. I love both KB and KG just the same. In fact people often tell me I have an extra soft corner for KB. I just think it has to do with his being the first child and how I feel protective towards him just because he is more sensitive compared to KG.


There is a certain bond you feel with a daughter that you just cannot explain. A feeling that comes from the common gender? A feeling that she will understand? That she already does? When I see how much she has helped me cope with the days soon after my mother left, I want to write her a letter now and show it to her later as to how she saved me from agony by being such an angel. Eating fast, sleeping on her own when she was sleepy because I had no choice but to sit and give KB his lunch. I just did not have the time to rock her to sleep the way I did when KB was an infant. She smiles at me as if knowingly and thumps me with her warm palm on my nose and cheeks. She is certainly not an easy child just because of how extremely energetic and fast she is in every thing she does. She cannot sit still for a minute. Our constant gripe is that we cannot hold her long enough to feel her cozy warmth. She asks to be carried only to squirm and jump out of our hands to grab some object that caught her attention from that vantage point. She is demanding because she needs to be watched or she will speed to the stairs and climb with squeals of delight while we come chasing behind her. She is always testing the barricades we put up for weak points and escapes to forbidden zones like the bathroom or the garage or the yard when we are not right next to her. I drop the spoon when I am feeding KB and run behind her screaming, "Oyi....oyi...KG KG KG, no, no no, no stairs" much to KB's delight. He just loves it when she is up to some mischief and I run and stop her.


DhaDHa is how she calls her brother. She came up with it on her own. That he is DHaDHa. She stresses on the DH and screams loudly for him when she hears his voice on the monitor downstairs as soon as he wakes up. She is usually awake an hour before him and is downstairs with B. Her eyes twinkle with delight when she sees him in the morning or when B comes back from work. She shows her love for people in the most expressive and outright manner. She squeals so loudly as if to welcome them. She loves playing with KB and pulling his hair and laughs with innocent abandon that makes my heart feel so full with joy. She fights with him like an equal when she wants what he has in hand. Which is usually all that she wants. The moment he loses interest, she does too. She is very aware of what his things are it seems like. If she sees his hat, she crawls to him and gives it to him. She stands freely and cruises holding on to furniture. She took one step a couple of times but has not walked yet.


She recognizes some tunes - especially "Twinkle twinkle little star". If she is eating and suddenly she hears that tune on one of KB's toys, she starts swaying her head side to side. She loves to imitate my facial expressions. If I smile and close my mouth and again smile and repeat that really fast, she does the same thing really fast. She loves fake coughs. If I notice her coughing, she gives me a smile and gives me fake coughs again and again. She loves to hide in the school bus tent and play peekaboo. After a long day when she is ready for bed, even if I am cooking or sitting at the high chair feeding KB she just drops what she is doing and comes and clings to my legs. Her silent and calm communication at that moment just makes me feel so at peace. The feeling that she knows to communicate with me knowing that I will understand her need at that moment. KB is most gracious at such times (when B is not home) and doesn't mind the interruption to his feeding. I take her upstairs and change her diaper, turn down the blinds, turn on the music and leave her in her crib. And off she goes to sleep.


I am glad to have been blessed with a daughter and like my sister wrote to me, I can already feel how special this relationship is going to be. Like different ragas, they both bring me joy and delight in their own special ways. I wonder how it was when she was not around for us, for KB, before she came into our lives last year. As I write this, I think of the time when B was trying to convince me that we should go for a second child. Providence was on my side and I am so thankful that I didn't stick to my original refusal to go for a second. All that I have had to give up for the sake of having KG, I would do so again if I had to. She really does make the family feel complete. Knock on wood. God please keep them both healthy, happy and safe.


Edited to add: I was giving KB his dinner this evening when she came and stood next to me looking at KB. As if to give me a gift on her birthday, she turned towards B who had just come back from work and took her first steps. She herself looked thrilled at her feat! Just two steps a couple of times and that was our sneak preview into her next big milestone!

Getting the story out...

I sit in our cozy office room that gets converted into the nap room for KB as I write my posts each time. He sleeps on a fold out couch so I can be near him since he is a restless sleeper. If I pat him when he is restless, he just goes back to sleep so he gets a good couple of hours to nap. KG sleeps in her crib in our master bedroom. In the comfort of a cool room I sit and wander into the lives of others through their blog posts. I often have comments and responses composed in my mind as I read along - be it their posts or email to a group list. I sometimes get to write it down. At other times, I just let it pass since many others have already commented or responded already.

There is a feeling of camaraderie even without overt communication between all of us in the written medium when you read tales about people. At the end of it, at some level, we feel a common bond. Universal emotions that we all relate to. I suppose it is this feeling that makes it worthwhile to communicate a story to the rest of the world. That the reader will feel possibly enlightened and will relate to the words in your story.

A few days back, I sat down to eat my dinner after the rest of the family had had theirs. I picked up a recent issue of National Geographic to read as I ate my food. As I read the story about "The Sahel", I found myself in awe of the dedication of some journalists who are willing to put their lives at stake in order to get the story out to us. Not just the journalists but the entire coterie that works on a story - the translator, the photographer, the driver, every one of them. It is one thing to work on a story when you know you are going back to the comfort of your own home at the end of the day. But to willingly go into dangerous territory just because the people there deserve to have their story heard by the rest of the world is commendable. You can see the passion and dedication of the journalist shining through in such a story. And when it is about the human condition, you feel it at a deeper level - that universality of some emotions no matter how removed we are culturally.

Each time I think we don't have enough time to read all the articles in National Geographic and may be we should cancel our subscription, I find myself unable to stop it. It is a fantastic magazine that lets you travel to all corners of the world with it's brilliant articles and phenomenal photographs. They choose from nearly 20,000 photos and pick a few shots for every story. I leave you with an interesting excerpt from the story of the Sahel that I read the other day. The interview with the writer, Mr.Salopek was very interesting to read as well - his perspective on life and reporting was so full of wisdom and spoke of someone who had matured from having witnessed the world and having written about it.
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Darfur—Towé village

On our first night in Darfur the gunmen forced Idriss and Daoud into a pickup truck and drove them off into the moonlight. They tortured them out there, tied to a thorn tree for three days. Me they pummeled without enthusiasm inside an abandoned hut in the burned-out village of Towé. Between sessions, I lay trussed on my belly, breathing hard against a dirt floor that smelled of rancid butter. I squinted out a brilliant doorway at two women.

They were planting sorghum in a dry wadi.

The women’s work appeared rudderless. They planted their seeds in lines that wriggled across the field, nudged here and there by whims of conversation. The older woman swerved whenever she told jokes, and her seed rows lurched like cardiograms. She giggled into her hands often, and I decided she must be mad. The younger one was more solemn. She toiled briskly, with a sense of purpose, as if engaged in a race, and her planting was much straighter. A tiny child crawled at her side, trying to eat the seed grain. The women labored like this all day. Then, late in the afternoon, they quarreled, and their plantings veered apart in rancor.

It occurred to me that the women were doing more than growing food. They were sowing their autobiographies.

Sex jokes, village gossip, little wisps of song, rebukes to children—all of it lay scribbled in the eccentric lines of their crops.

Women have been singled out for maximum violence in Darfur. Mass rapes by the janjaweed are systematic and well documented. As part of a Sudanese campaign of ethnic cleansing, women have been burned alive, shot, bayoneted, and dumped down wells. These stories, too, would be recorded in their fields. Lying in the hut, I imagined flying low over the savannas of Darfur and reading the women’s lives inscribed in plots of millet, peanuts, and sorghum. (See that row of melons ending abruptly at midfield? A Fur grandmother dropped her seed bucket and ran at the sound of approaching hoofbeats.)

In Towé the women were Zaghawa seminomads. The laughing one was named Fatim Yousif Zaite. She wasn’t crazy. She was 40, with the burning, clairvoyant gaze of the starving, and a smile that transmitted the innocence of her heart. She brought me gourds of asida, a yellow lentil paste she could hardly afford to share. Once, while untied to eat, I grabbed both her dusty hands in mine. She sprang back in fear.

But I only wanted to thank you, Fatim. You will always be with me. The janjaweed may toss your kids into vats of boiling water as they had done to children in another village, and the Sudanese Air Force may bomb your wretched fields as they had before, killing five of your family members. But for three days in Darfur you were my mother.

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Here's a part of the interview with the writer Paul Salopek:

What goes through your mind now when you're asked about the experience?

You know, I've been asked a lot about the experience, and what I have to tell readers, colleagues, and friends is that what we experienced pales in comparison to what the people of Darfur live with every day they wake up. And in a sense, the experience made us truly Sahelian for about 34 days. We penetrated that bubble of being a journalist-observer and suddenly became participants in our own story. So if you want to look on the bright side, it gave us maybe a little more understanding about the plight of the people of the Sahel that we otherwise would not have had.

You became, as you say, truly Sahelian for 34 days. Given this experience, how do you think that people in these war zones exist in this constant state of fear and uncertainty?

I think the answer is simply because there's no alternative. You survive. And what it tells me is that we're tough—as a species we're tough. Men, women, children come out of these experiences scarred, often, but in some ways stronger. They use muscles that we all have, but that we who live in the peaceful corners of the world don't even realize we have and that we rarely use. But they're there. And if this had happened in North America, or if it happened as it did in Europe not so long ago, people do survive through the horrors, and I think that's a good lesson to take away.

So why place yourself at risk, given the increasing level of danger?

The risk of danger in covering war is the risk of being captured, being wounded or being killed—like a soldier, like a combatant. It has a very interesting clarifying effect on the reasons for why you do what you do, and you do have to ask yourself, Why am I doing this?

My answer is twofold. It's for the people who I cover whose stories I feel are not getting out, and to bear witness to darker corners of the world that the rest of the world chooses, for a variety of reasons, to avert its gaze from. And it's also for my readers, to be the vehicle for conveying that information as objectively as possible. I am not an activist—I am a journalist, a reporter. The moment I start taking on one cause or another and become an activist, that puts me in even more danger. So the only shred, the only fig leaf of protection that I have is the tiny claim to the man whose finger is on the trigger that I will be neutral.

So I do it for my readers, and I do it for my sources, who are ordinary people on both ends. I don't write for policymakers. I don't write for the people inside the beltway in Washington. I write for plumbers in Indiana and schoolteachers in California—the ordinary bloke on the street. And those are the kind of people that I cover too. I don't cover politicians, I don't cover kings or presidents. I cover people who live in huts or who live in houses or shantytowns, or who partake of the most common lifestyle in Africa, which is often pretty poor but on many levels very, very rich. Sometimes when I go to a fisherman's village in Nigeria, even though he's financially very poor, his family life is wonderful, and it's our task to convey all of that in its entirety and not just focus on the bad.