September 2007:

February 2010:

The newest thought process in D’s world has been “poor”, “why some people are poor”, “why they don’t have money”, “their mother and father don’t work?”, “poor people are bad or good people” and the likes. I have been trying to explain this to her without labeling a class of people as “poor”, and trying to imbibe in her that poor today does not equal permanently poor. Without divulging into the relativity of how less is poor, tell her in the simplest form I know, that anyone who does not have enough money to buy basic things like food, and sometimes don’t have a house to stay, are poor. If tomorrow, mummy doesn’t work hard enough, and our company’s customer’s don’t pay us, then we will also be poor. Making sure she does not associate “poor” with any class of society, and that we could also become poor.

Not being sure if she is old enough to address/understand this topic, I also wonder where she picks these from. I do however feel that the class difference is much more prominent in India than in the US. My cleaner in the US drove a better car than mine. I am not saying that US does not have poverty, but the poverty line is much higher in the graph and is much less visible than it is here, in terms of basics like food and shelter. Alright, in Rani Mukherji’s Dil Bole Hadippa style, enough philosophy jhadofied.. Time to get to the point..

Dussehra holidays started this past Friday. I had promised the kids some fun projects for the holidays. The kids wanted to do cutting, coloring, gluing and I wanted to get something tangible out of the time spent. After some thought and discussions( with D and Babio ), we decided to make some mathematics puzzle’s and memory game’s at home. And give them to kids who cannot buy them from stores. D’s curiosity level was at it’s peak and she was supremely excited. Tagged them along to the nearby stationery shop, got some chart papers, and pairs of animals and vegetables sheets to make the memory game. I am sure a sucker for hand made items, so instead of printing out the puzzles from the computer, D just ended up with her free hand drawing skills

A picture is worth a thousand words, so here goes…

Even the littlest one participated , though most of the time my job was to shield her from the older one’s. All in all, 2 puzzles and 2 sets of memory games were created in about 4 hours. We played with one of them a few times and are now ready to be dispatched. To whom, is the question. We plan to find out if any of the maids in this apartment complex have kids in the age group 5-10, and give these away to them. Based on the response we get, we plan to make more of these. Puzzling out India map and world map is next in line.

We also hand wrote some activity sheets. D was pretty excited to be on the creating side rather than the solving side. Some picture/word matching sheets, some phonetic sheets and some numbers sheets. All in all, it was great fun to watch her enjoy the process. She is now super excited to give them away, which I am kind of surprised, owing to her this-is-mine attitude. To top it, she said, the kids might not have pencils to solve the sheets. I have lot of them, so can I give one to each kid. What could I say?

There were few outdoor activities we planned for the holidays, but both the kids fell sick and I am home alone with the kids. So, they are parked for another time. Am happy we got some done however.

She is lying on the bed with welled up eyes over a painful argument with her husband. After a really long day, juggling with the many responsibilities, an otherwise casual question on priority broke the camel’s back.

The littlest one is cuddled up with her, while the rest of the family is on the table trying to eat a peaceful meal. The little-big girl runs to her mother in spite of her father demanding her back on the table, and requests her to come eat, which the mother vehemently refuses, seeking the desperate help of a tummy hurt. The little-big girl goes back to the table, says her tummy is hurting, she needs a break, comes back to the bed and curls up with her mother. The littlest one senses something is not quiet right, puts her little soft hands over her mother’s eyes and mouth, makes that pouted lips and says – My Dlittle baby sad. Dlittle urt.

When will this sentimental fool grow up, put up a strong front and learn to let go. For the sake of saving her kids from these emotional turmoil.

When we moved to Bangalore less than a year back, the husband was pretty adamant on not buying the TV. The LH is a man of his own values, and adheres to them earnestly, no matter what the world makes of him. Me, on the other hand, lives by the rules, likes moderation and believes in balance.

Acknowledging the fact that me and the LH don’t converge on any said topic, and to save our kids from the constant dilemma, we made a conscious decision to let me have the final say on parenting issues. Not because I am the better parent(Hell no!, the husband is the epitome of patience, more well read and well traveled, all of which attribute to better decision making ), but simply because I am the more involved parent as far as providing consistent, predictable time with them and their day to day activities. And thus I self proclaim myself as knowing them better

So, when the LH had declared that we won’t get TV, I was game for experimentation, convincing self that I could always find a reason and force him into to getting one if-and-when needed. D and Dlittle hardly watched TV while we were at our in-laws place, as they were used to watching pbskids in the bay area, and could not relate much to the programming here. When they did not seem to care for the existence of the idiot box, I cared less. While youtube serves me well for the likes of Tere mere beach mein, Google news and the morning papers serve their purpose of instilling the little worldly knowledge that I need.

It is close to a year now, and we have survived without the idiot box. We still don’t feel the necessity to have one.

However, the influence on kids, by taking extreme measures of not having the TV in the house Vs allowing restricted quality viewing, while 99.99 percent of the population we relate to has one, is the question of concern.

Allow me to digress here, for the only way I know to get my point across is by quoting happenings and analyzing the after effects. What made me choose this topic for the weekend post is something that happened the day before yesterday night. A good lot of our family and extended family kids(10+ years) are on twitter, we have successfully phased the younger ones out of facebook and orkut(Some had faked their age as 13, just to get a facebook account. I had written about Social Networking some time back and still believe that it is not a safer place for younger kids to hang out without parental monitoring). We got them on to twitter, some have even started blogging. I feel twitter is much more simpler and transparent and makes it is easy for us parents/guardians to keep a watch.
(My dear handful of readers, before you judge us to be a crazy internet addicted family. Let me tell you that our business revolves around social networking, we have 2 software engineers in the making, one JEE zone topper, all die hard fans of their chacha’s/maama’s bindas attitude on life life-is-short-do-only-what-you believe-in-and-what-gives-YOU-happiness and entrepreneurial capability and keep asking for fun projects to do. So, it is not entirely our fault that our family’s primary mode of communication has become direct messaging via twitter instead of phone. phew!).

Before I go on, let me first formally introduce my nephew to this blog. Babio, as Dlittle lovingly calls him, is my 13 year old nephew, a very very sweet kid, staying with us and studying here. Babio came into the office room asking if he could open a twitter account for his sisters. You guessed that right. An account for D and Dlittle. That’s when it hit me that I had taken a twitter account in D’s name in early 2007 and even tweeted one mere line. Call me nuts, I did it. And conveniently forgot about it. I opened up the twitter page and D was supremely excited to read her name there. In less than 2 minutes she demanded the page background be changed pink, to be made very colorful like a rainbow.

Then comes the defining moment, leading to this heavy duty post.

She spots her name on the browser url – http://twitter.com/hername, selects just her name using the mouse and asks –
If I type Dlittle’s name here, her page will come?

“P.A.G.E?”. You said PAGE?

When I told her that I had not created Dlittle’s twitter page yet, she says in these exact words.
Sign up, mumma. Sign up.

S.I.G.N U.P????

Where in the world did she get that? S.I.G.N. U.P. Still remains a mystery. When asked, she simply said, I was imagining about it. Whatever imagination has to do with knowing “sign up”.

One other time, Firefox crapped out and she refused to use Safari. Saying she only likes Firefox, the orange colored thingee. Yes, thingee. Nothing else.

Yet another time, madam was installing adobe plugin. When I happened to see it and asked what in the world she was doing, she says that the video will not come unless she does it. She just has to keep clicking the second button on the right and it will work after that.


Which brings me to these points to ponder. Are my kids getting more than the needed dosage of computer time? Have we unconsciously s u b s t i t u t e d computer time for TV time. If yes, is that a good or a bad thing? Should we continue without the TV, or should we get one for the heck of it. If we get one, with our ever increasing demand for time, will we be disciplined enough to restrict the timings? Will my kids feel left out when their friends discuss some popular TV character? Is that something to even care for?

It is not that we are completely deprived of movies and we plonk ourselves in front of the computer the minute we wake up. D hardly gets half an hour of computer time, 2 – 3 times a week. Every now and then, we get the projector from our office(thanks to owning office assets ), dvd’s and project the movie on the h.u.g.e wall we have in the living room. Spice it up with ice cream or popcorn, the kids have a blast. Idea is to make it a special once in a while event instead of a routine.

I don’t have answers, but I do believe that my kids would have sooner or later got into the internet/computer world, just based on the nature of our job. Based on them being exposed to a home office server, 3 laptops, big screen monitor and the likes. Based on us preferring the computer(internet) to communicate long distance. Based on them watching us running to google baba for anything and everything. (Seeing us printing maps, looking up directions before going out. Checking out restaurant reviews. The other day she asked me something , I said I am not sure. She says, type it in google, it will tell you).

So, are we going to acquire the idiot box or not? The dilemma continues!

When the two girls end up in a fight over the same paint brush. Mother tells the older one, God has given her a mouth to talk. Use that before using the fist. While she is attempting to listen by looking into the mother’s eyes, the younger one punches her, snatches the brush and runs as fast as her little legs can take her.

When you are teaching table manners to the older one’s, get irritated at their giggling, only to realize later that the cause of the the giggles is the little one under the table tickling the older ones.

When you are telling your kids to use proper language and not use words like idiot and stupid, the younger one pulls her tongue out and screams in excitement – susu potty papa susu potty.

When you are disciplining the older one and telling her to listen, as this is an important life lesson, the younger one comes from behind and pokes your nose and eyes and bursts into a laughter.

What do you do?

The sad part is that for one reason or the other, the mother miserably fails to put up a stern face in front of this little monster. Time and time again, she bursts into laughter at her little nautankis. She better change, before she becomes the sole contributor in turning this little one into a bigger brat.

I wrote that one post on come back and went AWOL again. This time however, it wasn’t intentional. So much I want to pen down, yet I have been racking my brain this past hour on what to write first. Jump starting with the latest happening.

One more tick in the milestone chart. Dlittle is potty trained, almost. It wasn’t planned and there is nothing I did. It just happened.

Read it at your own risk. This one is going to be all about pee and poop. Not to complain of grossness after reading it.

About a fortnight back, I slid my hand into the drawer at the dark corner of the room, where I had stocked the huge lot of diapers shipped from the US. I knew there were only a handful left and it was on my list to refill them in the next visit to the store. I was in no hurry to potty train the second time around. Not with 3 kids and no school.(My nephew is here to stay with us and study, a very very sweet 13 year old. Will do a post on this soon). So, the handful that were left were all newborns, the LH bought these at the time we had run out of diapers and were waiting for our shipment to arrive. Dlittle was 16 or 17 months then. Apparently he had no clue how much she weighed. But the label – newborn? I don’t buy that weight logic. Anyways.

It was morning time, the littlest one was done with the big one, so postponed the diaper purchase for later that day and let her loose with 3 chaddi’s stacked one over the other. Was mentally prepared to let her pee in her pants, making sure I had stock of Dettol . Now, I must mention she is not talking a lot. Yet. Except for a lot of absolutely adorable gibberish and few matlabi words like kokos for chocolate, atto mumma aka hato mumma(Please move aside lady!), ti ti ne maala aka didi ne maara(Didi hit me), barney lola(Barney I love you song). An hour into being without diaper, she is running around the living room yelling tu tu. This tu tu is a synonym for a few words. Tu tu equals du-du(milk) early morning and after the nap. Tu tu with a drag at the end refers to shoes. That she is ready to head out.

I dismissed it thinking she must be wanting to go to the park. When the rut wouldn’t stop and I tried putting the shoes to calm her down, she started screaming at the sight of shoes with a big nuuuuu. Wasn’t milk time either.

The frequency of tu tu increased to once in 2-3 minutes. And then she suffixed something to it. aaliya.. tu tu aaliya.. The tube light in my head finally lit when she held my hands and dragged me to the restroom. tu tu aaliya == su su aa raha hai. She held her tu tu for a good half hour. I was pretty amazed. The poor thing did it even before I could position her rightfully on the pot. I guess I was so excited after all this, that I was running all over the living room screaming – Dlittle ne tu tu kiya, Dlittle ne tu tu kiya. The little one realized she has done something noteworthy, so after the next few visits, she would go to every member of the house individually and say – ti ti, tu tu aaliya. Papa – tu tu aaliya.

Now the part where I am still struggling. Since then, she has been on diapers for the night time only. The day after she self trained herself, when it was time for the big one, she dragged me to the restroom. Made me sit her and jumped out within 10 seconds. Crying.. No tu tu. No tu tu. No KOKO tu tu. (Koko tu tu aka chocolate su su aka potty. Took me a while to interpret ). After few attempts she finally pooped and then bawled like there is no tomorrow. She seems to be terrified by that thingee falling into the pot. As though she looses some precious thing from her body. It has been more than 2 weeks, this part is still a struggle. It takes at least 10 – 15 ten second trips to the restroom before she finally lets go. This has also made her constipated as she is trying to hold as far as she can. And she refuses to wear a diaper. Even in the night time, I have to sneak it in while she is asleep. Hopefully it is a matter of days.

And now, the latest news in brief. Missed out on Bangalore mom’s baby shower cum Bangalore Blogger’s meet this Friday. I had the choice to attend the shower and then visit the closest police station as yesterday was our last day of legal stay here. Or to sort out the visa issues which the Delhi waalas royally ditched us and then fixed it towards the end of the day. Whatever fun came out of rising our blood pressures. Anyhoo, all good now. But it cost me the opportunity to meet the bloggers. There is always a next time.
For now, Congrats Bangalore Mom. Here’s wishing you a very safe and super speedy delivery.

Where were we? Drooling over the menu, right.. Soon enough, I caught the smell of roasted suji I left lying on the kitchen counter and came to senses that lady is not gonna give us samplers. Upma now sounded too bland, let’s just say we satisfied our craving by ordering chinese food from a nearby restaurant. Pretty good food even without MSG, I must say.

I had decided to involve D in the party preparations this time. For one, her interest in artsy party stuff. And two, I was carrying over a teeny bit of guilt from not celebrating her third birthday. I had been going through some rough patches, call it PND or whatever you might. I am glad to be out of it, more than happy to leave it behind and move on to meaningful and productive thoughts.

The Theme
I was looking for colors, lots of bright sunny colors. Spent some time surfing http://oreintaltrading.com for theme ideas and craft ideas for the kids. They have a lot of interesting activities that fit into my budget, but outrageous shipping costs. The more you buy, the less the shipping should cost. Wouldn’t you think. Some incentive to buy more?? Guess not!
Some of the activity kits like their sun catcher’s and sand art, I fell in love at the very first instance and was tempted to try them myself. They come as a complete kit, avoiding the chaos of a group activity. I also loved the hand painting and face painting kits, but knew they would get messy.

So, I kind of knew what I wanted but was hell bent on not paying that shipping. Surfed and surfed the net for alternatives, until my eyes popped out, but found nothing that would come close enough to this site. Some were plain shady, with contact numbers that don’t work. Some had no contact information and the check out/credit card forms creeped onto my super suspicious brain. The LH kept saying that I complicate things for no reason by self imposing futile conditions. His point was to look at the shipping cost as a percentage of time spent hunting them and as a percentage of overall party cost. He had a point, but little does he know the woman is just plain adamant. Some confidence that she’ll find what she wants without increasing the stock value of Fedex.

The following day I picked up D from school as usual. She gulped her snack in matter of minutes as soon as she heard we were gonna hit the party shopping store. Our first stop was at Party City. While I was looking around cluelessly, it took D less than 2 minutes to spot and pick up the Dora party set. I frowned and said.. D.. Very nice.. But how about something colorful.. Lots of.. I was amazed when she said okay and let go her Dora plates. Little did I know she had scanned the shop when we entered and had spotted the aisle where they had organised the cutleries in colors. Pink!! She saw Pink!! No wonder!!! She runs to the aisle and picks up pink plates, pink cups, pink spoons, anything and everything pink. See mumma! I got color plates. Pretty cute.. colors.. I should have been more precise in my requirements. Lesson learned! She was just so excited, I did not want to hinder her enthusiasm. Honestly, I was blissfully submerged just watching her, but there was no way in the world I would settle for a pink party. A little talk.. a little convincing.. lots and lots of bribing.. did the trick. Some people around were having a hearty laugh at the debate this mother and daughter were having over why pink is not suited for a party and we should go for one with multiple colors. We then saw a bunch of cutleries and tableware with bright yellow and orange flower. That was it! A bright and colorful flower theme!!

The same shopping strip had a Michael’s store. We decided to check it out before leaving. I enter the store and guess what I see? On Sale!! Make your own Sun catchers and Sand art kits. Individually packed, just perfect for a party. With a grin that I couldn’t get rid of, I picked them up. Michael’s is very addictive, I must add. Instead of walking out, we thought we should make one round of the entire shop just to check them out. At check out we had the following in our cart.

• A tired, exhausted, yet hyper 3 year old holding on to the hand picked items dearly.
• Individual Sand Art kits
  Each kit had 5 different colors of sand pouches. 2 pieces of 3 inch plastic bottles with lid[Various shapes and sizes]. A funnel to pour the sand and pack. Instructions.
• Individual Sun catcher kits.
  Each kit had 2 pieces of the shape. A use and throw 7 color paint kit. A brush. Instructions.
• Moon sand kit.
  This kit had 6 packs of 12 oz moon sand each. And 9 moulds. Packaged so beautifully, it was hard to resist.
• Aprons.
  These were on sale for a dollar each!! Bright red, yellow and blue colors.
• Ready to paint back packs. [Read more like tote bags, just stringed to go over the shoulder]
  Back pack made out of raw fabric, ready to paint and decorate.
• Brushless fabric paint squeezers to paint the back packs.
• 3D Water resistant stickers to decorate the back packs.
• Flower themed self stick foamies to decorate the back packs.
• Some glow-in-the night bracelets
• One roll of doodle paper.
• Crayons and color pens.
• Colorful work bags.

Ta-Da! We were so ready to hit the party table! Oh, wait, we do need the cake, don’t we!

I wanted to make a Pinata at home. It sounded like a fun and easy project to do with D. But, it got pushed to the last minute. Me and SIL finally ended up picking a nice bright purple pinata with the same flower theme design on the center. We then filled them with pens, pencils, crayons, sharpners, flash card sets, some fruit tarts, small memo style notepads, mini shoe shaped bubble blowers and some such adhoc items.

We also picked up some chart sheets to create our own Pin-the-Petal game[inspired by the Pin the tail game] to stay with our theme. We got all the needed materials, and my brother had volunteered to do this along with D. But, for all the fun we had the last three days before the party, we were extremely exhausted and decided to get some sleep instead. We were all already sun burned[read as free natural tan], we did not want to add to the misery of the guests by looking like zombies.. We had enough to entertain the kids, this wasn’t high on our priority list anyways.

to be continued..

PS: Thanks to all you showed interest in the project via comments and emails. It truly means a lot to me and adds to the confidence quo. Will send ya’ll details when the concept in mind takes shape.
And yes, I promise to break the announcement in the next post.

Dlittle’s burday party was a hit. The party was more for D, for my brother/SIL who flew from the east coast, and a few selected friends who matter. A low key casual party at a neighborhood park turned out to be fun and enjoyable.

The party enthusiasm started when Dlittle’s maama and maami announced their visit to celebrate her birthday. Maama hadn’t seen Dlittle yet, and D’s non-stop chattering on the phone only added to it. The party planning started with the saving of a new blank spreadsheet – DlittlesBirthdayPreps.xls.

The high level items on the sheet were
- Head count
- Venue
- Menu
- Theme
- Cake
- Entertainment
- The PARTY!!

Within couple of days, head count’s were close to final.

The Venue
Out of sheer laziness to think out of the box, I conveniently defaulted to my list of pre-packaged party options:
- Party at Children’s Museum.
- Party at Pump It Up
- Party at The Jungle [Similar to chuck-e-cheese]

I would have loved to celebrate at the Children’s Museum, but they were booked for that exact week. Maama and maami had booked their tickets already, so changing the date was not a possibility. Moreover, I had 8 kids in all and their package is for a minimum of 25 kids. The same issue with Pump it up. The jungle was a fall back option, they had various slots available, but they are way too strict with their timings. They would reserve the birthday room for exactly 45 minutes. This includes cake cutting, cake eating and food. Did not make much sense to me. It’s a kids party and kids are not predictable. Especially on days when you you want things to happen on time.

With the pre-packaged party idea busted, I had to get creative. I am one of those who would have everything muddled up inside my little brain, but won’t put them into tangible action until the last minute. Time was running out, it was high time I announced to the group the venue of the party.

I was catching up with a friend on a Sunday morning. On the phone, while the kids were enjoying the morning breeze in the park. She mentioned her son was participating in the Bollywood singing competition. Just then it struck, there are few kids in the invitee list who would love to sing. Other younger kids can blast away with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Idea was to have fun, right! Why not a Karaoke party, followed by a pool party. I surfed the net and found couple of rentals, some would even swing by and set it up. Much to my disappointment, I found that the HOA has a big procedure to rent the community hall and it usually gets booked couple of months in advance. But, this will be on my radar. The minute I get a reason to have a party, karaoke party it’s gonna be.

I finally decided to have it at a nearby park. With the promise that I would do something fun for the kids. If its at a park, purple park[As D calls it] it was without a doubt. A small park with two kids play areas and about 20 picnic tables. A large buffet area with barbeque grills. We all drove to the purple park, this time looking with a different lens.

The Menu
Was time to decide on the menu. The LH was very particular that I spare the guests, and my brother/SIL with my culinary skills. I consider myself a pretty good cook, by the way. It’s just that in these 9 years of marriage, he knows well enough that he would end up doing the cutting and the cleaning. And listen to my nagging that the veggies are not symmetrically cut, or that the beans were cut 1 mm less than the sample I had provided. And how that would spoil the aesthetics of the dish!

One of the birthday party we had attended few months back served lip licking food, was different from the typical Indian restaurant food. It was 100% home made by a punjabi lady who has been doing this for more than a decade now. The taste very much reflected that. Without a second thought I got her number and gave her a call.
Mein kuch fry kar rahe hoon. Busy hoon. 4 baje dena hai. Aap shaam ko 6:30 – 7:00 ke beech mein call kariega spoke a lady from the other side..
Sure. Theek hai I replied, though I had planned to finalize the menu with this one conversation.
Evening came by, I missed the 6:30-7:00 time line. Called her 7:30ish to hear her say Aap ko to 6:30 – 7:00 ke beech mein call karna tha. Followed by an forceful artificial laugh to ease the pain of the impact.
I was shocked and amazed at the same time.. hmm.. haan.. 2 bache hain.. time ka pata nahi rehta.. Aap busy ho to mein baad mein phone karoon? I replied.
Koi baat nahi. Main to mazaak kar rahe the. Bataye details. Mein note karte hoon she said and we went over the menu.

Her comment felt like a slap on my face. But then, realized I should be respecting her time as well. She’s a cook. So?? She should not expect an appointment OR a call at certain timings? She has a family, life and kid too. She runs this as a professional business. The LH did commentThis is Bay Area. What did you expect? Don’t be surprised if she drove by in a BMW, to drop off food to a Corolla owner..

Anyways, she continued with the options for starters.. bhel puri, samosa, chaat, batada vada, dhokla, dahi paadi.. x..y..z.. I had blanked out by then. Bhel puri aur Dhokla. I said.
okay.. Main dish mein aap ek choose karo. Paneer wrap, Veggie wrap, Chole Bhature, Naan with any gravy sabzi, Puri bhaaji... Chole bhature, I said.. drooling.. even before she could complete the list.
acha.. Rice variety mein app kya prefer karoge? Vegetable biriyani, Chicken mutton.. Peas Pulav.. Iske saath dahi vade dete hoon. hmm.. Raita nahi dete.. said the lady apologetically.
Veg Biriyani I said. Sure, why would I want raita instead of dahi vade. drool.. drool.. more drool..
Dessert mein ? She questioned. My mouth was unbelievably watering by now and I was this close to asking her if we could have samplers tonight??
Rasmalai, I said. And there, the menu was finalized.
Was about to hang up, when I heard Suniye, R. Mein apne North Indian style sarson ki tel se bani vegetable achar bhe detein hoon. okay. Sarson tel.. reminded me of my naani’s food..

To spare you, my readers, further yawns, I’ll continue the rest in Part Dos and Tres.
Until then, Ta! Have a nice yummy weekend!

It feels as though I gave birth to Dlittle just a few weeks back. I remember crystal clear lying in the hospital bed waiting for my turn to go under the knife. For once, I was a low risk patient and there were back to back emergency c-sections that took priority. I remember the overwhelming joyous feeling when I heard the baby cry, within few seconds after she was taken out of the womb’s warmth. I remember the nurse saying 20 inches, 7.2 pounds, apgar 9. Apgar 9, I screamed. Every bit mattered, after having craved to hear anything remotely close to it the previous time around. I remember D’s first reaction to seeing Dlittle@ 4 hours, all cozily wrapped up, eyes shut tight, sleeping blissfully inside the bassinet. I remember that Monday this little angel entered our home. While mom was taking aarty, I was misty eyed, missing D. Over the decision to send D to school, to make the transition from hospital to home smooth. I remember not being able to walk upstairs as I was low on blood count and could not stand or walk for more than few seconds. I remember D proudly introducing her sister to anyone who visited us to get a sneak peak at Dlittle.


This little angel is all of 53 weeks old. Going down the memory lane, some notes I jotted at her 2 month completion, another at 4, when she started on solids, at 7 months, her fascination with electronics, her 10 month update, an un-intentional mushy 11 month update..

She walks around the house, asserting her wants with her sister for the very same paper and crayon. The elder one obviously uses them to color and has no issues sharing with her younger sister, if only the younger sister would differentiate it from her finger food and stop munching on them..

She graduated to Dora without taking the purple dino aka Barney lessons, thanks to her sister..

The minute she senses change in tone, like, when her sister is being lectured on behavior, or when her sister gets a time out, she quietly goes to the other end of the room to indulge herself with a toy or a book..

She screams to enter the bathroom demanding a brush to clean all of her 6 teeth, while the older one is lost in thoughts with the brush in her mouth..

She is not talking yet, all she can say is daa daa.. dhis dhis.. paa.. paa.. paa.. paa.. But she can narrate a whole sentence, complete with action, with the ups and downs in tone and pitch, to suit the situation..

Any time she spots a passage in the play kitchen that is used to block the entry way to the stairs, she runs towards it with maximum speed, climbs on the first step and squeals with excitement. Waits to hear one of us running towards her, then climbs couple of more steps. She would then entertain us with her very own victory dance..

She takes any piece of cloth she can get her hands on, put it on top of her head and pull them down. Much to her amusement, it don’t cover her body, instead slips down on the floor. She is a fighter alright, she will continue to attempt few times until distracted with something else more interesting. Like an elevated object to climb up, her latest fascination. She has figured few toys and pillows that she uses as a stepping medium..

She runs all over the house, with that funny toddler style walk, wearing the diaper, and is being named the drunken sailor by her father..

She is natural with music and dance, as is her sister. Music is on, her legs automagically start tapping, body goes into wobbling, hands go into the accelerator movement..

She reacts, responds, squeals, plays differently with her sister as opposed to us parents. There seems to be an extra dose of love when it comes to her. I am not complaining..

She is starting to show character. The other day she was angry because I did not lift her in spite of her her attempt to throw both her hands up in the air. It was just going to be another minute before the chai came to a boil. When done, I went towards her to pick her up. This little one, just to prove her anger, walks away from me, making that ugly face, mouth open, holding the upper and lower teeth together. Takes few steps opposite to my direction and looks at me. I end up smiling at her, only to aggravate her anger. She hits her head on the carpet couple of times just to retaliate. This little angel of mine is sure growing up..

I can not end this post without thanking you all for the wonderful heartfelt wishes.

Or without the anti-jinx mantra.

And one day. My littlest daughter has graduated from an infant to a toddler! Happy birthday sweetie!

DD household is slowly transitioning from the non stop fun-only-second-life that started late Wednesday back into the balanced real life. Stay tuned for details and updates..

Many a times, the 8th of the month would pass by without the crossing thought that Dlittle just got older by another month. But, ever since the first of this month, it has shadowed my mind. My little daughter is going to be a year old in a month, soon to be toddler.

Both my kids have brought so much joy in our lives, I don’t have words to express. The balance they bring in this ever-stressful life, the sanity they help maintain, the kindness they provoke, the differences they make us reconcile. They are the closest one can get to God, in the very true sense.

Dlittle and D are temperamentally very different. D is bubbly she amazes me with her energy and she has got the cutest smile. She is not the cuddling types, she is more of the thinker type, taken after her fathers genes. How many times I have bribed her with one thing or the other just to get a kiss, just for a hug. My littlest one however, is the utterly cuddly type. Sometimes she would come close by, lick my face, push her head into my lap and just lie there for few seconds. She would then get up and walk, do something else and then come right back. For once I realise the emotions animals portray by that very act. This little one, would wake up in the night, sit up, look at me, smile and fall on my belly. Cling to me, wrap her hands around and continue to sleep.

D is not the cuddly and expressive type, but when she does, she tosses my heart for a spin. I was around 24 weeks pregnant with Dlittle. We had gone to The Disney on Ice theater show. It was dark by the time the show got over and the road towards the parking lot had been detoured to manage the crowd. One of the detour sign had a protruding rod, which was not visible in the fast moving crowd. And I tripped over it. My stomach down. I could not register what had happened, for couple of minutes unable to get any meaningful word out of my mouth. I remember blabbering, naturally the only thought in my mind was the baby. The husband visibly mad. In all this commotion, I did not notice that my 2 year old then, had been watching unable to express her emotions. After a little while when I was back to senses, I realised that I had shielded my belly with my hands, had bruises all over my palm, but the belly did not touch the ground. We decided to go to the emergency anyways to be sure. Well, we buckled up in the car. This little darling of mine, who seemed contained all along, burst into tears and started shivering. One and only one thing she kept repeating. Crying and talking constantly without a breather. Mummy, are you ok? No cry mummy, please come and sit with me. Hand pakko[Hold my hands]. We pulled over the very next parking lot, me and her hugged each other, both weeping like there is no tomorrow. This moment though scary was precious. This kind of love can only be felt, not expressed.

When the two sisters don’t see each others for few hours, they yearn for each other. The expression they show when they wake up in the morning OR when I go to pick D up from the school is priceless. Dlittle would pat her older one and squeal at the first sight and D would not get tired telling her friends over and over again, Hey, this is my sister. Come, come, see her. You know, she does this. She does that. She knows to walk. The love don’t last long, within few hours they are on top of each other fighting for the same pen or paper. But somehow, when the music is turned on, lights are dimmed, we are wrapping up for the day, they get their calm back. They cuddle, they kiss, they say good night. The next morning, first thing younger one does is to look at the door looking out for her sister. The first thing the older one does is to hug and kiss her little one, ask her if she had a good sleep, even if she is at the verge of wetting her pants. And that gives me the hope, that though they will be of very different personalities, though they will compete, though they will fight over petty things, though they will choose different paths, though they will physically far apart, they will be there for each others, they will long for each others, long after I am gone.

Hello, this is Dlittle sending out quarterly updates. I self proclaim myself as the charm of this blog. Apparently, mummy hasn’t been able to update the blog for a while, blames it on her self set crazy work schedule. She has also been hiding her laptop from me after I showed my interest in it. Didi is home on a spring break this week, keeping mummy on her toes. I ought to grab this opportunity and so, here I go.

I can walk!! For the first time yesterday evening, April 14th 2008, I took three steps in a row. I don’t really fall down after the third step, but for some strange reason I sit down and start crawling. Most of today was spent practising the 3 step walk. Its exhilarating to try something new, more thrilling to watch the look on my parents and sisters face.

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I love my didi. She’s the best, especially when she wakes up in the morning, runs to my room, snuggles into me and mummy and showers kisses on us. Or when she greets me and never gets tired of talking about me to her friends when me and mummy go to pick her up from school. This one day I bumped my head on the wall while trying to walk with a finger support on the wall. It hurt and so I cried. When I did not stop in couple of minutes, my didi started crying as well. Mummy hugged both of us, when we all calmed down a bit, mummy asked her what made her cry. She said – ‘My sister got hurt, that’s why I was crying‘. Is there anything more I can ask for?
That’s not the complete picture, we do have our moments[a lot these days, after I have shown my independence by going mobile] of fist fighting and the like. That’s the way we keep ourselves entertained, is what I would like to think.

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Shortly after the last update mummy wrote, she gave up on cereals and got me started with daal, rice and veggies. Pressure cooked and mashed with a pinch of salt and ghee. It tastes good, it’s healthy, but it’s causing constipation, which was and still is her primary concern for not starting earlier. Adding a few palak leaves to the food does ease the constipation, every now and then I am force fed prune juice, which also helps. This combined with my super quick nursing time leads to the worry of me not getting enough milk. I don’t like the taste and sight of formula either. Couple of more months, then I can get started with whole milk.

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Mummy and papa make fun of me that I was possibly a motorbike racer or a dancer in previous life. I have this chair that sings when I sit on it. I figured this out, so I press it, then stand up and do my twist. Both the hands in the air at shoulder level with hand movement like I am accelerating a motorbike. Another twist that gets my parents hysterical is when I stand up, shake my bum and head at the same time. Whenever I do these twists, didi, mummy and papa go ga-ga over it. I get the needed attention and the cycle continues.

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It seems I am starting to show character. Stubborn it seems, a mind of my own. Impatient, it seems. Will eat if I want to. Point to be noted is the person stating this – my mom. The genes I have taken after. The mumbo jumbo tricks might get me to open my mouth, but you can’t force me to swallow, can you? I eat well, I really do. But only the foods I like. I don’t have a sweet tooth. While that’s supposedly a good thing, the same taste buds make me not wanting to eat fruits. I am trying to acquire the taste. Applesauce is not for me, but small bits of apples and cantaloupe I like.

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Just for the records, my 9th month weight is in the 25th percentile and height is in the 45th percentile. I kept my promise to stay slim and trim. sigh!!

Love,
Dlittle@10 months

First of all, 3rd day in a row, Dlittle ate without crying. In a record time of 1 hour and 10 minutes. Yipee!!! I see hope! [Lifting the Anti-jinx logo from Dotmom's.. Thanks DM]


Moving on to the milestone(s)…

The much awaited pearly[borrowing the term from squiggles mom] is here. Yes, just one, the top left. Though it has been playing hide and seek for a while, the official date of its visible presence is declared as the 31st of January. This one pearly is about 3 mm long already and the other adjacent to it shows no signs of emerging any time soon. I just hope one of the 2 lower jaw pearls don’t show up before the second on the upper jaw !!!

The second milestone… She can sit up comfortably all by herself and move anywhere she wants in few seconds. She is still not crawling, but rolls to the point of interest, sits up and gets to business. Business as of now is to taste as many things as she can. The more colorful the object, the better the taste? No wait, the more electronic the object the better it tastes. Yes, iphone, the blackberry with the twinkling light tastes the best I think, remote comes pretty close.

She hit the third milestone yesterday. For the longest time.. ok not really, but this past week she has been trying to stand up by holding on to objects to get that extra push. She did it yesterday. Sitting on the carpet by the couch, she held on to it strongly, kept trying to prop herself up. In about a minute, she stood up. The expression on her face was priceless. She squealed louder than ever on her accomplishment and this newly discovered height is giving her ideas.

The newest fascination? See for yourself. Happened sometime mid January when I went into the kitchen for less than a minute to fetch water. Whats up with kids and remote/phone/wires/laptop? They seem to be born new age compatible.

I am 7 months old!! Yayyyyyy! To top it, I spoke my first word ever… pa.. pa.. vaa.. paa.. Mumma interprets it as va.. va.. while papa interprets it as pa.. pa.. Obvious, isn’t it. I am liking this game

Since my 4 month update, there are a few developments from my side. First, I can sit with some help. I love to sit. I do need a little bit of back support, I can assure you it’s only a matter of time.

I can move… I rolled over few months back. But that wasn’t spontaneous. That was mostly when I attempted to do something else.. Now I can roll over whenever I want to. In few seconds. First, prop myself up, kinda in a sitting position and hold my feet with my hands. Wobble a little, rest is the game of gravity. Not only can I roll over, now I can also move to reach objects of my interest. For example, if there is a striking red and white book lying nearby, I first roll over, then put my head on the flat surface and raise my bum. My feet moves a little further, now when I put my bum down and head up, I have moved a little. I know, I know, it sounds complicated, but really you gotta try it couple of times, it’s no big deal.
I hear mumma and papa say the word crawling every so often, though I am not sure what that is all about.

What else? Oh, I can scream… Scream so loud that every one around makes their presence felt right away. I so love it. I have tried it few times deliberately and it works every single time! really. A 1 minute scream can do wonders. You gotta trust me on this one.

Food… One thing I am not liking is that white stuff my mommy stuffs into me every day. What I don’t get is their plates seem to have loads of colorful and flavorful food. Not sure why I can’t eat `em. They say I don’t have something called teeth and I apparently can’t chew. I overheard mumma talking to naani and my wise Naani reminded her there is something in the kitchen called a blender which can convert adult style food into baby style food. They had a long discussion and have decided to start me on daal chawal when I turn 8 months. It seems once I get to know the taste of salt and sugar, I would not eat bland food. Lets see. My mom did try to give me idli once, na.. white stuff again! I need color!! No one better than my papa understands my need. Mumma is way to worry-me types, oh, one new food every 7 days. Wait and watch for rashes, check her poop and what not. She needs to ease a bit. Anyways, was I saying my papa is the best? The other day we were having a family dinner at our favorite Fresh choice, when papa understood my silent moves and quietly thrust a piece of the golden colored cantaloupe in my hand. Boy! I had a blast. By the time mumma realised, I gulped a teeny bit of it. he he… Oh, and the famous parle-G, my sisters favorite, thats so yum. One day I grabbed it myself from my sisters snack plate. While everyone was busy talking, I gulped one half of it. Yummmm… Seeing the excitement I showed, I am offered that once in a while. Mumma did start me on applesauce and green beans puree, but I have been having loose bowel for a while so that’s on hold.

Weight… hmm.. lets not go there. I don’t want to upset my mumma. [Just between you and me, sshh... 35th percentile. Down from 45th. Hey, got to stay slim and trim ok.. Keep it to yourself now... ] I will tell my height though. Last couple of months, my parents have been calling me chutanki or chutku[little], and I am so not liking it. Not even a bit. I proved to them this time by showing a 70th percentile on the scale. Though the doc keeps saying that I seem to be genetically geared towards my mom, which means I am probably going to be on the smaller side.. sigh.. Not to loose hope, with the advancement of technology at this rate, who knows there will be a time when I can choose how tall I would like to be. Lets hope.

Sleep… I am still not sleeping through the nigh. Well.. I sleep 5 hours straight, then I am kinda half sleep half awake another 5 hours. I do go back to sleep right away if nursed every 3 hours after that. My ped was not happy to hear this and advised mumma to stop feeding me at midnights. hmm.. I am not that easy to let go, I think. Hey, when I am sleepy and hungry at the same time what do you expect of me? I am only 7 months old. Mumma and papa have decided to rock me back to sleep when I grunt in the night. Ain’t working, hmm.. ok.. I will try.. I promise.

I love dancing. Mumma had probably mentioned our evening and weekend routines. Sometimes we shift from the low, calming music to loud rap kinds. Ddidi goes wild. She jumps up and down, runs back and forth. Lately papa and Ddidi compete how fast they can jump. Apparently thats called dancing. I do my bit to keep the enthusiasm going. Belted in the bouncer, I push my upper body front and back, combined with wiggling my hands and feets. Papa stops, comes closer gives me a kiss and says I love it, my little roly poly lady. I love when he says that

I can recognize my family members. My mumma should be in my visual range, else I get a little worried. She carries my food supply you know! Lately papa makes fun of me and her by singing – mataji, jhalak dikhla jaa.. aaja aaja..

Love,
Dlittle

Yes! I uttered my very first word – pa… pa… vaa.. paa.. on the 25th of December.

Love,
Dlittle