Peanut Hates School

When I put Peanut into her playschool last year, she had a settling period of a few weeks. She was barely two at the time, but after she settled in, it was mostly no issue getting her there for a few hours everyday. I would drop her on my way to work, and it was pretty cool.

Then, a few weeks ago, the protests began. She started informing me 'The gates are closed' very firmly, and made up all sorts of excuses to not go.

Her teachers usually write progress updates as short notes in her diary, and a day too late, I noticed that the timing for her 'Swimming pool day has been changed' because 'She has been moved to another class'. Another class? Why would they do that, I thought. That day, I went and checked with them about it.

Turns out Peanut is one of the few 'advanced' kids who was developing faster than the others and was therefore automatically shifted to a class which was a few months ahead. Unlike a couple of the other kids of this type, she didn't kick up a bloody racket and therefore they assumed she is settling in fine over there and just merrily kept her there.

Ummm. Isn't this the kind of thing that should usually be discussed with a parent, I thought.

I informed them that the changeover probably wasn't going as smoothly as they thought, considering that she now was disliking going to school. She was used to the the kids in her class, and had made a couple of close friends there over the last year, and the other big plus was that her fantastic teacher from the previous year had also moved into the higher grade when she moved a few months back. I requested that she be put back to her old class.

They made a fuss and tried to talk me out of it. They insisted it was for her own development. Would eventually help her when she went for admission to the 'big school'. Each child had to be given time to settle in. I felt a bit guilty, a parent who was holding her child back. I said maybe we'd give it another couple of days. After all, a kid does need to face changes in life and has to adjust anyway, I told myself reluctantly. Also, I knew at least part of my reason for wanting a shift was my personal bias for the old teacher and the slight dislike for the new teacher.

The next couple of days were still an issue getting Peanut to school. She started saying 'That boy she pushed me'...and 'That uncle is bad uncle'...and all sorts of things, including at night, dreading sleep. I had no idea if the issues were related, but I knew this wasn't working out right.

Vijay and I went back there again to talk to the principal-in-charge - she listened but was mouthing pretty much the same words about 'giving a child the space to adjust'. While we were talking to her, all the kids were outside singing something in some sort of morning assembly, right outside the office. I saw Peanut standing there in a corner, in line with her classmates while her old classmates and teacher merrily sang along at the other end. She looked around confusedly, and her face began to crumple, and her eyes filled up with tears. She finally caught sight of me staring from the principal's office and the tears started streaming down her face. I pointed this out to the principal, she looked out and immediately went and brought her into the office. While Peanut sobbed into Vijay's shirt, the principal agreed they would put her back.

The issue was that there were now only a few days left for school to give out for the summer holidays. We still had to face reluctance taking Peanut to school in the morning ( reluctance is a mild word), although she was happier when she came back. But the episode ruined our chances for Happy Summer Camp Time - as soon as school ended, summer camp in the same premises - with the new teacher supervising, unfortunately - were to start up. I had enrolled her for the first two weeks, but I think she ended up going only for six days. So now I've given up, and she's going to be at home till the 4th of July.

I just think that that's about the time the twins are coming, and there's going to be plenty to adjust to in any case. Not really looking forward to re-selling the idea of school to her. Even now, after a week of not going to either school/summer camp, she still starts blubbering at the idea and says 'I no want to no go to no school' and reaffirms 'The gates are closed, Mama'. I've told her she's not going for a while. But eventually, of course, she has to. And all this is before the saga of the 'big school', which I've merrily put off thinking about, even begins. This parenting stuff is great.

Anyway, I somehow had a feeling about some of these teachers. While the playschool overall is great, I've heard some of them being a little snappish with the kids. Very...teacher-like. Not warm, like the old teacher, who really is a sweetheart and who at the last PTA meeting, actually welled up while talking affectionately about the development of the kids in her class in general.

But net-net, about putting her back into the old class? All my qualms disappeared when I was looking through her recent craft work, which she apparently 'diligently and quietly' did in her new class. As against the usually encouraging and overly-enthusiastic remarks about her progress from her old teacher, the new teacher had tartly remarked on one poorly scrawled on drawing 'Needs to improve her coloring skills'.

I actually laughed out loud in disbelief. Needs to improve her coloring skills? Really? Towards what end? Eventually restoring the Mona Lisa? So what should I do? Tutor her painstakingly myself, smacking her hand everytime she wants to colour an elephant orange or her crayon goes out of line? Or maybe just send her to Special Coloring School?

Yeah, give me unrealistic and overenthusiastic and warm, anyday. I'll take that over 'advanced'. After all, the kid isn't even three years old yet!

Clearly, there's enough of that crap coming up in life later.

Bah!

So, Due Any Day Now?

...umm...well, not really. It's only the 30th week or something. Another 6-8 weeks to go, one hopes - but yes, I am about as big as I was with Peanut when I delivered. Gah!

Big, clumsy, uncoordinated and irritable. More than my usual self, I feel. No wonder they've been giving me subtle hints at work about staying at home and working from there. Subtle hints including 'It's embarassing to see you in office'...and 'Go Home Now!'. Whatever, people. Be careful or the fat lady sits on you.

Of course, there's no point in whining about it, but the fact is, I'm running out of people to whine to so I might as well whine on the blog for just a minute or two. I recently saw some videos of myself from months ago where I'm running around in a pair of fitting jeans and T-shirt at 58 kilos. Now, at almost double that weight ( oh all right, it just fees like it), the only thing I can actually wear out of the house are my good ol' Mom's salwar kameez's.

I'm going to have to keep up the weight gain over the next few weeks so that Pickle and Papad grow properly. Thankfully at the latest ultrasound a week or so back, they had both grown well - the month before Pickle was substantially smaller than Papad - but now, Pickle is the bigger one. We were quite surprised by this development and I was examining the previous ultrasound reports with some curiosity to make sure we hadn't mixed them up earlier, but Vijay mildly informed me '' Confusing them may be a lifelong issue anyway'' so I gave up.

So yes, the most important thing is that they grow well, and therefore the cribbing about the weight gain ( and the pain and the discomfort and the heat and how nobody including Vijay will ever know what it feels like...ooops!) must stop. Therefore, stopping.

(Thin People Piss Me Off).

Pickle & Papad

In a pregnancy which you believe is going pretty normally, you don't really expect to be told in your 20th week - halfway through for those of you not so quick with the numbers - that there are not one but two babies inside you.

Quite a roller coaster it is then, and the Highlights include:
''Here's one head...here's the other''...
''What? My baby has two heads?''

''Of course, it's a twin pregnancy. Who did your earlier ultrasound?" ( tone implying it must have been some incompetent buffoon)"
"It was YOU, Doc"

....more mumbling and digging out of earlier ultrasound records and explanations of how ''this almost never happens"

...and followed by ''You're not going to cry, are you, beta?"

...and numerous other less funny incidents including your regular doctor going ballistic on you, saying things like

Ultrasound waale pagal to nahin ho gaye??....

Ek minute, Mind if I sit down, I'm reeling from the shock (?!?)...

Ab hum kya karen...?

Gee, I don't know doc. Kya karen?

...and even less funny ones like the scare that they are in the same amniotic sac ( they are not, a later ultrasound confirms), that they have Down's syndrome ( the test apparently has no meaning for twins, again recommended by our super competent doc and pooh-poohed by others)...stuff I'm too tired to even go into and am past caring about.

So at the end of it all, how do I feel, a month or so after the discovery of an extra baby?

Thrilled, frankly.

Tired, yes. Very heavy, yes. In some pain and discomfort, yes. But all that's quite irrelevant.

Three kids.

Wow.

Anyway, task is now to keep them inside for at least another 8 weeks - so have been advised taking off work from Mid-May. Am thinking will listen to the doctors this time round, kind of important.

Net-net: send good vibes my way, eh? I need all the good luck I can get!

Finally: Papad was picked because the other options were -

Pickle and Pretzel
Pickle and Popcorn
Pickle and Parantha
Pickle and Pepper
Pickle and Patty
...I forget the others, but they were pretty forgettable.

Yes, they are identical.

Goodbye for now and remember... let the good vibes flow...

More tales of the Harassed

Peanut: I'm KING of the Jungle.
Me: Well, I'm QUEEN of the Jungle, then.
We both look over at Vijay - 'And what are YOU, Dad?'
Vijay (extremely glumly): I think I would be the Jungle.

When your Pregnant Wife is Mad at You

Phone conversation:

Husband ( Trying to make up) : Honey, would it help if I bought you a dart board and put my picture on it? Huh? Huh?

Wife (Huffily) No ! ( Brightening up suddenly) But how about you just get the darts?

Things Peanut Says

Thought I'd just list a few:

* 'Mama, you cheeks soft like a bay-bee.
...and You got be-yootifool pimples'.

Yes, one of the various side effects of impending re-maternity is a return of the acne. In the form of a few bright spots on either of my cheeks - which show no hope of getting better since Peanut enjoys pawing them with her grubby paws while snuggling up to me. Oh yes, and once she broke into 'Pimples...pimples...' to the tune of 'Fimbles...Fimbles' on Ceebeebies.

* 'No, Mama, you no gorjus. Baby gorjus!'

We're kind of vain when we're dressing up in the morning for school and office. We like to look in the mirror when we're ready and admire ourselves and fight about who's more gorjus.

* 'Mama...you are so very nangu!'

Err...kind of stating the obvious when we're having a bath.

* 'Daddy, aapi-aapi karo'

Said very matter-of-factly when Vijay is pretending to be helpless and trying to get her to feed him some fruit.

*' Nappy aaya...Poo-poo pehna do'

We're trying with the potty training and keep her out of her nappy most times, but she insists on wearing it for pooping. She of course means 'Poopoo aaya, nappy pehna do' but is under a bit of stress at such times so mixes it up.

* 'My baby sister in my tummy...and he gonna come ouuut!'

Umm...Yeah. I'm glad we explained the concept of your baby brother/sister Pickle just right. Well done, Vijay and Y.

Y Gets Old

30 years old. Sigh, Cry, Moan and Groan.

There, I said it. I'm finally old. It no longer matters that I'm a 'Child of the 80's' as some of my friends born in '79 refer to me. It's all downhill from here, my friends.

This was a rather unusual birthday, though. Thanks to my loving family and friends, who I think were mindful of the fact that I might get a bit depressed thinking about the fact that I'm now at the half-way mark. Mid-life, you might say.

Anyway, so Vijay got Peanut to sit with him for an hour and coaxed and cajoled her into singing 'Happy Birthday Mama' - it was really sweet. He played it at midnight for me. It began with a slightly freaky shout though. I think he had asked her to say it so many times that she got frustrated and screamed 'Hippy Burday Mamaaaaa' - he then looped it five times, but not before adding an echo to it. Then the song began, and it was heartbreakingly cute. If I could figure out a way to upload it, I would.

Then, in the morning, Peanut and I woke up really early and found that Vijay was already up. He insisted that we go for a walk together. I thought it was a good idea but didn't quite get the hurry. I asked him if it was okay if I went to the bathroom first. While I was in there, I noticed an SMS on my phone. I picked it up and it said 'God, she takes a long time in the loo. Bet she's reading a fat novel'. I looked down guiltily at my fat novel - Jeffrey Archer's 36 - and got out quickly to ask him what the hell he was up to and who that SMS was meant for. He looked a bit stricken and then quickly recovered to tell me that it was my sister, who wanted to know the plan for the day.

We stepped out for a walk, and I was in a contemplative mood. I was chatting with him as we took a few rounds of the park, and then he suggested that we go back. I said I wanted to meditate, as it was my resolution to take better care of myself in a more wholesome manner now that I was so old. He reluctantly agreed and after about 3 minutes of deep breathing, he broke into my reverie and said 'Let's go'. I had been thinking in the last 3 minutes about how I needed to make some changes and become a better person for the remaining half of my life and started to discuss it in earnest with him, the biggest being how I wished to become a kinder person and stop getting annoyed by the little things. He made a pretence of listening to me for a while and then abruptly stood up saying 'Ya ya, let's go back now'.

By this time, I was really annoyed with him and sulkily got up and followed him. In a bit, he realized I wasn't happy and immediately tried to make up for it 'Oh, yes, meditation will help you be a kinder person - I have something on my Ipod, 17 minutes of Loving Kindness, it will help you, I will lend it to you', he blathered on. I ignored him. He tried another card 'Just now, you said that you wished you didn't get annoyed at little things. Isn't this a little thing?' He beseeched me. We'd reached home and I didn't bother to answer him. I opened the door and went in, and to my shock, my sister leaped out towards me from the right - the shoe closet-type room we have there, with a 'Happy Birthday'!

I had just about recovered, managing a mild 'Oh-aah. Thanks', when there was a flash of blinding light from right in front of me, and the phenomena responsible for the same was my very own mother who materialized from one of the rooms where she had been hiding, holding a video camera to capture my stunned reaction. Scarcely had I got over this when my sister's friend A popped out from Far Left, from behind a sofa, with a digital camera that caught my open mouthed reaction. I think my exact words were 'Aa' and 'Gaa', respectively.

They then pointed out the breakfast table which had been set for me in my absence - with a sumptious breakfast of saugages, eggs, pancakes and maple syrup, brown bread - and of course, there was a dabba of alu-paranthas exclusively for Vijay. We dug in, but not before they made me open my presents, which consisted of about 18 sweaters. Very nice, they were too, and I was only sorry my birthday comes at the end of winter( and subsequently pretty happy about the continued cold-ish wave).

My sister informed me that they had been waiting in the car downstairs and then up in the house for about an hour, a consequence of my unusually early rising, Vijay's phone being unreachable, his failed attempt to get me out of the house on time, and his failed attempt to get me back into the house on time. Peanut had been excessively amused and delighted at the fact that the three of them scrambled to hide everytime a sound floated in from outside the house.

Frankly, I was really surprised. The evening surprise parties that have been a fixture for every birthday in our home for the last few years have surprisingly, ceased to surprise, although they continue to delight. This was really unexpected.

And the effort it took on the part of my mother and sister, who are not exactly early risers ( and presumably Friend A is not either) , to get up at about 6.30 a.m. and come over all the way, wait in the car, mystify the driver by saying 'Don't go near the house' when he decided to get out to stretch his legs a bit and generally make all the fuss, did a lot to make me feel loved.

(My sister also said that my mother's first reaction after they woke up was to look at her witheringly and remark 'What a dumb idea'. Shows how much effort it took, eh?)

Of course, there was the party in the evening at the club, to which I discovered Vijay had forgotten to invite some of my best friends ( I rectified this, embarassed) , but which turned out to be a roaring success primarily due to Vani's purchase of a White Board on which we all played Pictionary ( in two opposing teams - the silver hats and the pink hats) - and then a little dancing, the highlight of which was Peanut dancing with great skill to 'Ibn-e-Batuta'. Very cute. I also noticed that Vijay, my sister and A had done up the place with Balloons and Streamers, as if I was about six.

All in all, it was a fantastic birthday, and hard to remember that I was 30, and not 6. More importantly, I think I have the most amazing family and close friends ever possible.

Not bad, for the half way mark.

P.S - I guess I might as well tell you now. When I blogged earlier, I never really mentioned being an expectant mother and one day there was a post 'Oh guess what, I gave birth earlier today, here's a picture of the new baby'. Well, anyway, Peanut will be joined by Pickle, sometime in the next few months. But let's not make a big deal about it, shall we?