7
May

Rules of engagement

We started when they were itty bitty. There were rules about when they went to the doctor, when they are supposed to sleep, when to wake them to feed them, how much to feed, what to feed them. We quickly tossed a bunch of those “rules” (hello, my doc told us to wake Woo to feed him every three hours! He was already gaining a pound a week, he was good). Out went the old, and we started a few of our own. Most of them were arbitrary and told in jest to infants that could not understand them.

As both lils got older, they did start to ask about things that are governed by rules; when you can drink, when can drive, when you are allowed to vote. We gave them the correct ages for all of these, and started making up a few of our own. Rules about how old you must be to ride your bike down the slide (eight), which is the highest stair that you can jump off of (the third), and when you can become a vegetarian (twelve). Lots of these values change to suit the situation that they arise from, and the lils like to review them regularly.

Moving to India has meant that there were a large number of new rules thrust upon the lils. They have adopted many of them, but still fight and question a few. We knew it was only a matter of time before the started coming up with their own rules. Surprisingly, it was Goose that came out with a rule for us all.

Each bedroom in our house has its own attached bath, and the lils love to use any toilet other their own when they need to go. This often means that they use each other’s. A few weeks ago Goose reached her breaking point and adamantly decreed that anyone who used her bathroom had to sit down. She was apparently tired of her brother messing up her toilet, and had figured out that this was the only solution. It’s worked too. Woo follows the rule, she is happy and we have peace again when it comes to the toilet. Well, we did have peace. Tonight Woo instituted his own rule… Everyone who uses his toilet has to stand when they pee.

2 comments

23
April

Drawing

Neither Willy nor I are great artists, so it never surprised us that Woo showed very little inclination to draw anything at all. Although he produced coherent stuff at daycare with the fabulous N, most of the artwork that we received from him for the first four and a half years of his life was pretty much scribbling on paper, with little effort to create forms or tell a story. Goose followed much in his footsteps, but we never really put too much emphasis on it for either lil. They were happy with their art, so we were happy.

We started to see significant change when they started school here. There was obviously some emphasis on colouring and drawing at school, and they seemed to produce colouring pages where the lines were mostly identified, and free art where there were some forms with eyes and mouths that generally fell into the categories of family members or dinosaurs. Something has changed in the last few weeks, however, and both lils are (mass) producing art that has clearly identified subjects and covers pretty much anything imaginable. We were stumped as to why both lils all of a sudden figured out how to draw things. People, buildings, mountains, dragons, a variety of scenes were all of a sudden popping up in their drawings.

The mystery was solved last week when I asked the lils what they were doing at the art table. “Playing Draw Something”, was the response I got. Draw Something is a game that is similar to pictionary, available on Android and iOS devices. You play against friends (or strangers), and draw pictures that your opponent has to guess. It’s addictive and a time waster, and I completely underestimated the impact it would have on the lils, that their fascination with watching me play would teach them both how to draw so quickly. This clearly isn’t the only thing that they are learning from, but the influence is very apparent to both Willy and I. Maybe there is something to this technology thing… although this really makes me want to start playing pictionary with them.

2 comments

9
April

The value of a life

We got a call late at night last Wednesday. It was from our driver, who was distraught, and let Willy know that his neighbour had died, that he may need some time off. Willy told him to take the time that he needed, and hung up, concerned. We were surprised when Subbu arrived the following morning to take Willy to work. He explained it simply by saying that it helped to stay with routine. He was clearly shaken, and on the way to Willy’s office explained that it was his neighbour’s seventeen year old son who had died, and that he had committed suicide because his grades were poor. We were both shocked and saddened to hear this. Almost a week later I am still troubled. How could this happen, how could he think that this was his only choice?

My first instinct was to blame the parents. I’ve never met them, nor do I know anything about them or their family; I made some big assumptions. I do know that there is tremendous pressure in India for a child to improve their standing, to do better than their parents. I have read several articles that allude to parental pressure for success, including one that told not of a suicide, but of a twelve year old girl whose father forced her to beg on the streets when her grades were not to his expectation. I have also observed parental expectation first hand throughout our community. Success is not enough; the children are expected to excel, to surpass their peers too. That being said, I am wrong to solely blame the parents. While they may have had some expectation that their son do well, I am certain that they did not want to see him take his life.

It is widely reported that suicide rates in India, especially among youth and female youth in particular are extremely high. There are numerous media reports of children as young as eleven taking their own lives, often because they feel they have done poorly in school, they have actually failed or received a low grade, or that they worry that their parents cannot afford to send them to the post-secondary schooling that they will need to complete to better themselves. It saddens me to think that so much emphasis can be placed on schooling and marks for these children.

In the recent past, the Indian government has put into place measures that help families send their children to schools, and to help those in the lowest class improve their standing. What they haven’t done is help to teach those who hold positions of power the value of a human life. We frequently see labourers performing their tasks in very unsafe conditions. It happens in the community we live in, for example the man who sprays to protect us from the mosquitoes. We know that he is using a toxic chemical, and close up the house the minute that we hear his fogging machine start up in the distance. He rides by, and is not wearing any sort of protection from the harmful chemicals that he is breathing and coming into contact with. There is no way that he cannot be harmed by the chemicals, yet he has nothing to offer any protection. He may have chosen not to, but in all likelihood he either doesn’t know the risks, or hasn’t ever been given anything to wear. His employers need to ensure that he is protected, that his health has value, and they haven’t.

I am fortunate in that I am not poor, and I live in a country with ample opportunity for both of my children to follow their dreams and be successful, on their own terms. This has been a sobering reminder to me that I need to not only teach the lils to want to do well and succeed in life, but that success must also be defined in terms of their happiness; and that a life has value that cannot be diminished by a failure to achieve a milestone, or a belief that they may not meet anyone’s expectations.

2 comments

3
April

You teach them to read…

I didn’t quite think through some of the ramifications of teaching Woo to read when we started out. Actually we didn’t exactly teach him, we supported as he pretty much taught himself how to read.  We did help him, as did N at day care, but he lead the process and progressed at a much faster rate than we anticipated.  He amazed us by reading his first words by his third birthday, and chapter books by his fifth.  He is rather advanced in his reading as a result, and we try to keep up with him.

He doesn’t just read books, he devours them. There aren’t really libraries like we have at home, so we have developed a pattern of visiting the closest bookstore about once a week.  He sits and methodically goes through the books, selecting all that strike his fancy, and letting us filter down until there is a pile of three to five new books.  Thankfully books here are reasonable, or we would be broke!

We had a dry spell recently, when we didn’t get to the bookstore for a few weeks.  During this time he read and re-read many of his books, but also turned to the kitchen, and started to read my cookbooks.  They now sport many a bookmark on recipes that he would like for us to make together, which actually helps with meal planning.  A couple are still missing, but I am sure they are tucked away in his room.  This also led to some fun experimenting in the kitchen, with only one real failure, the apple milkshake, and one jar of oddly matched spices that he mixed up for me to use in recipes that call for curry powder*.

My sister and brother-in-law gifted him with the entire Roald Dahl collection for Christmas this year, a completely awesome gift.  He was intimidated at first, and decided that he didn’t want them.  We quickly realized that he was a little lot overwhelmed by the size of the collection and the sheer number of words, so we tucked them away in our room.  He still knew where they were, and would come to flip through them most mornings, so I offered to read one to him in early January.  I chose The Giraffe and the Pelly and me because it was the thinnest, and looked silly enough. He was hooked right away, and read ahead in the book after I left him, then finished it on his own a day or so later.  He now comes to our room every week or so to select a new Dahl treasure to read. He asks us to read parts of them, some of the time, but he tends to burn through them quickly on his own.

The book that he chose most recently was George’s Marvellous Medicine.  He read it with much glee, and then asked that I read several chapters with him one night at bed time. We started with George’s creation of this magical medicine, the chapter where he basically throw everything, the good, the bad, and the poisonous, into a pot to serve as medicine for his evil grandma.  He is enjoying this a little too much, and warning bells go off in my head. We spend a long time discussing why that would be a dangerous thing to do, and how Woo should never consider touching half of that stuff, let alone feeding it to anyone, before moving on to the moment when Grandma gets the meds. He seems to understand that the book is silly fun, and should not translate to real life.

This morning I woke to an eerie silence in the house.  I knew that the lils were up, as I had already been shown the marker manicures that they gave each other.  When my queries as to what they were doing were met with silence, I headed down stairs to the kitchen.  There were spices everywhere, a pile of wet tea towels, a bottle filled with murky liquid, and two lils, looking both guilty and pleased with themselves.  I looked at the bottle closely, and it appeared to be mostly water and chillies, with dashes of oregano, nutmeg, and rosemary for good measure. As we cleaned and talked this through, Woo repeatedly assured me that this was not a medicine like George had made, it was merely a potion. I shudder to think how close Goose was to getting a dose of that spicy potion!

He has now moved on to The Twits, where Mr. and Mrs. Twit play horrible practical jokes on each other.  Tonight Willy discovered that in chapter four, she serves him worm spaghetti for dinner. I can see where this is going… Maybe there is something to be said about selecting age appropriate reading for your lils.  It’s not about the difficulty of the words or that the content is too mature for them, it’s so that parents can be prepared for all the naughty things that they learn!

*Curry powder seems to be a pretty North American thing, so I have a mixture of spices that includes coriander, cumin, turmeric, chillies, cinnamon, sugar, ground ginger…. That I use in some recipes.  Guess he thought my mixture was lacking!

2 comments

20
March

Alone

I sat and watched the sun rise this morning. There were no distractions, no interruptions.  I was alone, and I loved it. I was alone, so I just took the time to watch it creep up in the sky, filling my world with a brilliant and warm red glow. On any other day I would have chosen to stay in bed, to grab a few extra minutes of sleep, but today was not any other day.  This morning I was sitting on an airplane, waiting to fly to Delhi and then travel on to Agra, to once again visit the Taj Mahal. 

We were here just two weeks ago. While I loved viewing the Taj with my family, and would be completely satisfied if I never visited again, I am selfishly excited that I have the opportunity to be here again, and drink it all in.  I am traveling with friends, but I am also alone.

As I watched the sun set on the Taj tonight, I loved every minute.  I was close enough to appreciate the beauty and majesty, yet not close enough to touch it, that will come tomorrow. So I just enjoyed the moment.  There were no distractions, no cries of “mama”, no little people to watch out for.  I was able to take the time to bask, to compose my thoughts and my shots, to take the pictures that I wanted to take, not the pictures I managed to squeeze in.  It was a wonderful moment, evening, day, and I will repeat it tomorrow.    

While I miss Willy and the lils terribly, and would love for them to experience Agra again, I will take this one for me.  Alone. 

3 comments

16
February

When it rains…

This isn’t about the weather*…

Poor Goose has been having a rough week. She started of with a mangled finger and it has gone downhill from there. Every time I turn around, she has a new nick, scrape, or bruise. I know that this means that she is just playing hard and trying to keep up with her bigger and faster brother, but COME ON. Her body is covered with scabs and bruises, and I get quizzed almost every day at school. This lil girl needs a rest from the owies.

She is my lil toughie, and will actually handle pain pretty well for a three year old. Or a thirty year old, really. I knew that she had hurt herself this afternoon when I heard the wail. She and Woo were in the back yard and I was preparing supper. I went out as soon as I heard her, she saw me and started running. Sadly she failed to adjust for the height difference between the grass and the patio. She transitioned poorly, tripped and hit her knees, elbows, and finally her forehead. I grabbed her up and she hugged me so tightly, as if to say “Protect me mama, make it stop”. If only I could.

I was talking with her Auntie last night and mentioned that Goose loves the band aids that she sent for Christmas. Auntie mentioned that she would make sure Goose got some more. I think we’ll need a case.

*on the weather, though… For the record? It hasn’t rained (or precipitated at all) this year. Not once!

No comments yet

13
February

Some lessons are harder than others

As a parent, I hate to see my lils hurt. I expect a certain number of scrapes or bruises, and try to let the lils play hard enough that they earn those marks. I’d say that they do, judging by the number of bandaids that we go through, and the endless stream of owies that get kissed her. I have fears though, fears that they will really hurt themselves one day. I tend to get anxious about certain things, horsing around on stairs (stairs petrify me), running on the wet pool deck, riding their bikes in traffic, and anything to do with doors. Sadly, we seem to have one child that has recently started to slam doors, and one child who likes to loiter exactly in the door frame.

We were just hanging around the house yesterday, after a lunch out. It was quiet time, but the little monkeys were monkeying around, as they are known to do. Willy was in with Woo trying to finish his story, and Goose was bouncing around, alternating between calling downstairs to me and going to “check in” on the boys. I told her to go to her room, that I was coming up to get her settled. She didn’t though, she went to Woo’s room instead. As I started walking up the stairs, I heard them talking, followed by a slam, then this awful scream. I ran, yelling “open the door, open the door”, but they couldn’t hear me through her screaming and the thick door. It was merely seconds, but it seemed to take me an eternity to get to her. I opened the door, scooped her up and let Willy know what had happened.

She was still screaming and I tried to calm her on my way to the freezer. It was starting to work, then she both realized that it REALLY hurt, and actually looked at the damage. Her poor index finger was slightly dented, cut and bleeding, and the nail was already purple. Her upset reached new heights. Woo and Willy followed us down, trying to help to calm her. The only thing that did work was covering the finger with a facecloth, and that would only last til the next throb of pain. We managed to get ice on it, and gave her a dose of advil to help with the pain. It eventually kicked in and and she collapsed into bed for a nap.

Woo was very contrite and Goose pretty skittish for the rest of the day. While it pains me to see that my little girl was hurt, a little piece of me hoped that this would help them both learn to be careful around doors. We talked about it, and they agreed that they needed to be more careful. Today, we had three close calls with fingers almost getting squished. Apparently this is one lesson that has not sunk in.

Her finger today, poor lil Goosie.

 

5 comments

9
February

I will spoil your fun too

Apparently I am that mom. The one that sucks all of the fun out of life for the lils. I make them clean their hands before eating, tidy up after they have played, have a quiet time in the afternoon when no other kid in the world does! and I don’t let them pick through their food and ditch the vegetables or watch more than a smidge of TV. For the most part they barely notice these evil things that I do and make them do, but some days they let me know loudly and clearly how unfair I am.

It became apparent to me this week that it is not just their fun that I spoil.

The older girls who were rude to my lils by not saying hi to them and giggling and pointing at them? I let them know that that was not nice. My lils were trying to be friendly and make friends. I thought these girls needed to know that you don’t have to be rude to someone just because you don’t want to be their friend. It’s an important life skill. It wasn`t the first time that this scene had played out, and I didn`t want my lils or those girls to think it was OK. I stopped their giggles and fun.

The bigger kids that were hogging the free merry-go-round in the park this weekend? I told them to get off, so the much younger children, who were waiting patiently through multiple rides, could have a turn. When they told me that they wouldn’t get off and were “saving” the spot for some other friend who was not present, I just helped the small children into the saved seat, then asked my own two to get off so more lils could have a turn. It made them all wait an eternity of the three minute ride before they could hop on again.

The bigger girl that was forcing the smaller girls off the monkey bars in the park was told to stop. Her nanny wasn’t doing anything, and she was intimidating the little girls who were having a good time. They were getting nervous, and I didn’t want them to fall. She left shortly after I told her.

The worst offence of the week happened yesterday. The lils had the neighbours over and were playing upstairs. Well, our guests were playing, and my two were at war with each other. There were screams and punches, pinches and names called. I spent the better part of an hour giving time outs, and finally a warning that their friends would have to leave if it persisted. The lils weren’t having fun, our neighbours could not have been having fun, and I wasn’t getting supper made. They acted out a few more times, and I let neighbours know it was time to go home. This was apparently the end of the world as we know it. There were tears, yells and attempts to barricade the door, but I got them home and the lils seperated. They were quiet and sullen for a long time after this, and I was called the meanest mom ever.

I also make Willy do the dishes when all he wants to do is read or play a game. I might be getting grumpier in my old age.

4 comments

17
January

You win some…

One of the tricky parts about moving to India had to be overcoming Goose’s hesitance to try new or exciting foods. She is very much our “wonder bread and kraft singles” gal, even though she has never actually eaten them*. After a very rocky start, we are slowly and steadily making progress. She is even starting to eat some spice, which excites us greatly. There are some foods that just need some spice, and I look forward to one day being able to use chilies again!

Of all the things that she has had aversion to here, thee most absurd is paneer. We all LOVE paneer, including Goose. She was more than happy to eat it in Ottawa, but would not go near it once we moved here. We’ve been baffled, but have managed to work on her bit by bit. She is now eating it, but not without coaxing and assurances that it is EXCATLY THE SAME as what I make in Ottawa. If she tastes it without this assurance she won’t eat it, so I have to remember. As much as I really want to tell her that she just needs to eat the food I make, I know that this is as much her testing her boundaries as it is trying to adjust to life in India. So I meet her in the middle.

I have taken to adding paneer to lasagne, as I can’t find what Canadians call cottage cheese and am not a huge fan of ricotta. The fact that paneer is roughly one 1/6 the cost of the imported ricotta also factors in. The paneer doesn’t replace cottage cheese, but adds a neat texture and taste dimension to the lasagne, so it works for us. It did work for us until Goose told us this week that she doesn’t eat lasagne because it has paneer in it. I thought about it for a minute and did the only thing I could do. I told her I would use cottage cheese. Cottage cheese, you see, is what paneer is also called here. She was happy, and ate her lasagne. There was no cajoling, and no lying involved, so I am calling it a win.

Woo knows it was paneer in his lasagne. He misses cottage cheese and now wants to know where his is. I can’t deliver on that, but he keeps asking.

…you lose some.

*OK, had never eaten them before we moved here. A mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do when she doesn’t know where to buy real cheese and safe bread!

1 comment

16
January

Do I meddle?

Prior to life in India, Woo was pretty much the top guy in his home based daycare. He was essentially the oldest, he got along really well with the other boy his age, and seemed to be able to “direct” the three younger children when he saw fit. I know that being bossy wasn’t tolerated, but I am sure that he got away with enough of it (as he does at home) that he relied on being able to do and take what he wanted.

One of my worries about school here was how he would fit in. These worries were mostly assuaged when he made fast friends with one little guy in his class. They were excited to see each other each day, had a few playdates, and seemed to get along really well. Their sisters are also friends, which makes it extra nice. While I’d noted them butting heads a few times at play, but they seemed to make peace in time. I figured they would work it out, and they did, until this week.

Woo came home last Friday and reported that his friend was mad, and told him that he didn’t want to be friends any more. I tried to talk to Woo and see what was up, and eventually I got his story, which didn’t seem to warrant the friend’s reaction, and seemed to make Woo look a little too good. He explained that he was putting away all the toys at cleanup time, and that his friend was just playing. He got mad when Woo put his toys away. I let it slide, even though I know that Woo has never willingly put his own toys away, let alone those he wasn’t playing with. They’ll work it out, I thought.

Woo was sick today, and was in the car as I waited for Goose to meet me at the school gate. She was slower than usual, and I had a chance to say hi to Woo’s friend. Not thinking of their falling out, I asked if he missed Woo today. His answer broke my heart a little. “I didn’t notice that Woo was missing, didn’t miss him, and he isn’t my friend anymore, because he takes my toys,” he said. Clearly, there is more to this then what Woo reports.

At home, as he snatched a toy from Goose today, I tried to explain that Goose and other children did not like it when little boys were always taking their toys. He was unconcerned, so I pressed on and let him know (a much softer version) of what his friend said. He didn’t admit to taking things, but did get that sheepish look that means the truth of the story is close to what I said. I didn’t push him, or tell him that he had to “fix” their friendship I asked him to think about whether he still wanted to be friends, and how that might happen.

These two don’t need to be friends, and it is up to them to decide if they want the friendship. A small part of me feels that I have already meddled too much, but I do want Woo to be happy here, and know that he really likes this boy. It’s also really important that he realize that his behavior to others has consequences, and that seeing what he has done and making amends can mend fences. I wonder if it is enough and I should do more to get them to come around to making up.

A very small part of me wonders if I would say or note anything at all if the little boy’s mom was not my friend, the only real friend that I have made here. Does that factor into it? Could it? Should it? Life is a lot easier for us when our lils are friends. We can see each other with the lils, it gives us something to do on the school breaks, and we can rely on each other to help with child minding in a pinch. Yes, all of these can be done if the lils aren’t best buds or even friends, but it is easier if they are. So do I only want them to patch things up because it is easier for me?? I know I don’t, I want my lil boy to be happy, and his friend makes him happy, even if he doesn’t quite have the social skills to show it properly.

So I wait. I’ve planted some seeds, and will watch what happens. He’ll figure it out eventually, right?

1 comment

« Previous Entries