A smelly sort of irony

Your little girl shows no sign of blessing the diaper in spite of your best efforts to help Mother Nature along: well timed meals, plenty of water, careful positioning of the pink potty, gentle coaxing. The minute you're out the door and on the way to playschool, you hear a gentle rumbling, signaling that the diaper has now been freshly endowed and will require cleaning in the car or, even worse, the auotrickshaw.

Happens without fail, week after week. Sigh. This is my contribution to the tag started by Rohini. I have many more instances to narrate of course, in fact they'll fill up a book, but we'll leave that for another day.

A tag by any other name...

Blogging has been a bit slow lately thanks to the internet connection (hello you!) which has been acting more mercurial that the Rain Gods themselves. It had reached a stage where I'd become quite superstitious about switching the blasted internet switch on without an elaborate 'switch it on' ritual, you never know when the Internet Gods decide they are displeased after all and go on the blink without so much as a by-your-leave. Matters have been resolved since thankfully, and I can finally get down to the tag on gender stereotypes that Piper and Momo's Ma had tagged me to do some time ago. I've had great fun doing this tag, though I'm not so sure if it conforms exactly to the popular notion of gender stereotypes. From what I can see around me, not conforming to a stereotype is fast becoming a stereotype in itself these days, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway so here goes:

1. I DETEST shopping, and am completely hopeless at buying stuff for myself. P on the other hand loves shopping and can spend HOURS even at the local mom and pop store, shopping for household groceries. Most of our joint shopping expeditions end with me having to drag him kicking and screaming back home, when I reach the end of my tether and am on the verge of collapsing into a shopping induced dead faint. P is an excellent shopper though (I think Becky Bloomwood could take tips from him) and can be counted on for finding excellent picks in all sorts of stores ranging from high fashion to hardware.

2. I'm a pretty good cook, even if I do say so myself, but my culinary skills  fall short when it comes to making rotis; for the life of me I just can't get it right.  The dough is either too lumpy or too gooey and on the rare occasion that I get that right the rotis themselves decide that they would much rather masquerade as maps of assorted continents. Only once in my life did I manage to make perfect looking, almost circular rotis and I stored them away carefully to show them to P. When I unveiled them proudly later that evening I found, much to my horror, that they had hardened into completely inedible, rock solid slabs that would require a hammer if one were to attempt breaking them into bite sized pieces. Its all rather sad, because I really do love cooking and roti making is an art I would love to master.

3. Like a lot of other bloggers I read who've done this tag, I'm not into make up at all. Way back when we were just friends and P didn't know me too well, he'd fondly bought me a (really nice, come to think of it) state of the art makeup kit as a birthday gift from one his trips abroad,  which had stuff I'd never even heard of before(eyelash tip darkener anyone?). Eight years later the make up kit occupies pride of place; in my special keepsakes basket where I've stored stuff from the past that has sentimental value. Needless to say and much to poor P's chagrin it is completely untouched. Not that I have anything against makeup, in fact I'm rather awed by its power, but most days I just can't get myself to do more than run a comb through my hair and put on some lip gloss. Also I guess the older you get the more difficult it is to break old, entrenched habits; the one time I was coerced by a well meaning friend into wearing some lipstick and kohl at an office party, I spent the evening feeling hideously pan-caked and couldn't wait to go home and wash my face squeaky clean. The friend hasn't given up since and I'm nothing if not open to change, so you never know, I may just metamorphose into the next fat mu pro yet.

4. I love traveling, and mostly alone. I find traveling alone the best way to recharge my batteries, get my thoughts sorted and connect with myself. I haven't traveled alone for leisure for a very long time now, but back when I was working I'd enjoy even the solitary work related trips. I'd like to do a back packing trip on my own some day, though with my newly developed tendencies to get panic attacks about what might happen to Nikki when I'm in a 1.5 minute shower I don't see that happening anytime soon.

5. I'm excellent at packing and unpacking stuff and am the designated packer (and un-packer) for vacations, short trips, weekend getaways and even moving home. In fact after our relocation from Bombay last year when Nikki was under three months old, with minimal help, I think I can single handedly manage any kind of move now.

6. I'm a whiz at ironing clothes and can easily put the local dhobi out of business if I try (not sure if this is a gender stereotype but have you noticed how the local dhobi is almost always a man?). I have a half a mind to do so too considering the local dhobi in question has been trying to fleece us out of home and hearth by his money laundering ways.

7. The other thing that I'm a whiz at is giving a good head massage *Brief pause here to make a quick plea to The Lord. Dear Lord, while I truly am grateful for my blessings, do you not think in the next round you could bless me with some more conventional and infinitely more useful skills? Like singing and maybe strumming the guitar for example?* So yeah, the local champi wala is the other guy I can easily put out of business.

8. I'm not a terribly maternal person, and for the longest time I wasn't sure if I would be a good mother. Having Nikki has changed all that, though I have to say P is a whole lot better than I am at most things when it comes to her as well. I hope he doesn't read this post.

9. I don't particularly enjoy and am terrible at multitasking. The image of the super mommy who brilliantly manages home, work, social life and a gazillion other things does inspire awe but also scares me a little bit. Give me one thing to focus on any day and I'll do a much better job than if I'm trying to manage fifty other things at the same time.

10. I rather like gymming, even if I'm not the most terribly regular person around, and have constant visions of myself in a size zero avatar, dressed in the latest Juicy couture gym attire as I effortless power my way through a grueling cardio and strength training routine like a sleek powerhouse of energy and grace. In the meantime, I'll settle for plodding along on the treadmill huffing and puffing away in my current size 86 real life version.

I think the whole world and its aunt has done this tag by the time I've finally gotten around to doing it so there really isn't anyone left to tag. Guess I'll settle for the blue pants, I prefer 'em to the blue skirt any day :)

Activity Schmactivity

The monsoons are here and Nikki's daily trips to the park have become few and far between what with the weather playing truant on most days. In order to keep boredom at bay I decided to try some of the myriad 'fun activities to try with your toddler' I keep reading about on various websites and in the gazillion newsletters I  subscribe to. Besides Nikki seems to enjoy similar activities at the mother toddler group, and so last week, bursting with the naive enthusiasm of the  uninitiated, I decided to try some new stuff with her myself. First up was messy play, having gone through a detailed newsletter extolling the numerous benefits of the same. "We're going to make some play dough!" I announced cheerfully as I marched into the kitchen, startling S out of one of her daydreams. The newsletter had conveniently included some do-it-yourself playdough recipes and it sounded reasonably simple. All I needed was some flour and water and voila! Stir them well together and your very own simple playdough is ready. Easy peasy. I helped myself to some flour and water from the kitchen and trotted off to find Nikki, with a curious S in tow. "Let's make some playdough Nikki!" I screeched excitedly, catching sight of Nikki in the balcony and setting my supplies down. Nikki looked up briefly from her detailed perusal of the drain pipe and marched off in the opposite direction. "Look, WHITE, POWDERY flour!!" I persisted, not one to be discouraged easily. "See how nice it feels?" Nikki poked an uninterested finger in the proffered bowl, yawned and turned away to the unexplored delights to the drain pipe. "Okay, fine. Let's make the playdough, that should be fun!" I made a great show of pouring water slowly into the flour, while simultaneously stirring it into the flour. Nikki didn't budge from the drainpipe. No matter! She would probably perk up once she saw what fun it was to play with the playdough after it was ready. I stirred vigorously for a couple of minutes and poked an experimental finger into what should have been some super soft, pliable playdough. What I got instead was a stringy, gooey mess that clung to my fingers like there was no going back. "Kya didi!" smirked S, who had been lurking in the corner all this time "Aapko to atta goondna bhi nahi aata!" "The recipe must have been messed up" I informed S coldly. Just who did she think she was with her superior atta goond-oing skills? Bah! "I will make the rotis for today evening's dinner" I continued with the best cold hauteur I could muster. I would show her too! Just how difficult could it be?! Besides I had kneaded dough and made rotis in the past, even if my efforts hadn't exactly yielded rotis that you would put up on Kitchen Champions. Still they were edible and that's what mattered. I mean its not like rotis needed to pass any tests on aesthetic appeal. S just shrugged and went off to the kitchen and came back with some atta leftover from the morning. "Here Nikki play with this!" she said making a big show of handing the atta to Nikki. Hmph, the little show off! Much to my chagrin, Nikki displayed an interest in the atta too, took it from S's hands and began rolling it around and squishing it. Regaining my enthusiasm I quickly got out the little rolling board and pin my mom had got for Nikki some time back and gave it to her, but she kicked it away and then proceeded to plaster the atta all over the sofa at supersonic speed. By the time we were done scraping it all off, nobody had any energy left for any more activities so we decided to call it a day.

The next day I decided to try a different activity: painting. After carefully assembling Nikki's new, non toxic paints, some brushes and water for fun and large sheets of white paper, Her Highness was summoned to the venue and I eagerly tried to show her the many wonders of color. She seemed a bit bored with the whole thing at first, making me look like a bit of an ass as I finger painted circles and squiggly lines with loud and exaggerated enthusiasm while she looked on disdainfully from a corner. Oh and did I mention that this spectacle was taking part in our generously open-to-public view balcony (we have to do most messy play type activities here, since it is very convenient- great play area and easy to clean afterward) , with a bit of an audience in the other balconies? No, it was not one of my finer moments. Mercifully, after about ten minutes of "Oh look Nikki! A RED circle! Look! The blue line goes up and down, up and down, side to side, wheeeeee!", she did get a bit interested and came up and started dabbling in some painting herself. My happiness lasted for precisely three and a quarter minutes after which Nikki decided that all this smearing of color on paper was b.o.r.i.n.g and paint could be put to other uses as well. One paint smeared hand promptly went into her mouth followed just as swiftly by the other one. After my various and multiple attempts at dissuading her were met with a swift but firm rejection and after I managed to dislodge her brightly purple colored foot from her mouth, I finally gave up and the painting activity came to an end as well.

"Maybe you're pushing her to try things she's not ready for" advised The Papa Man later that day. "Why don't you try something simpler? Like crayons?"
Crayons! Now why hadn't I thought of that before?! Sure she was ready for crayons! In fact if her previous artistic escapades were anything to go by she was a regular Da Vinci in the making. The following day saw me in the balcony, yet again, with some more sheets of paper and crayons. In my new, non pushy avatar I made sure Nikki was around first before casually getting on my with my crayoning and pretending I was having great fun. Luckily for me Nikki took one look at the crayons and came scampering up right away. She let out a squeal of delight and heading straight for the crayons, picked them up and began examining them with a happy look on her face. I let out a sigh of relief and was just about to discreetly edge a sheet of paper her way when she swiftly went up to the balcony railing and speedily tossed out the crayons one by one like a stealth bomber on a final combat mission. The next several minutes consisted of one very angry security guard, several displeased passers by and a few tickled-to-death neighboring balcony viewers.

We have now unanimously decided that we will a) no longer conduct activities in the balcony and b) leave the more adventurous of the activity lot for the experienced beings at playschool. However in my indefatigable enthusiasm I will continue in my attempts at engaging Nikki in more such educational and fun activities. That is, as soon as I emerge from my self imposed hibernation after recovering from the twin attacks of the Crayon Missiles and the Angry Bystanders.

P.S. And for those of you observant readers who were wondering, yes I did make the rotis that day and two things happened. First, I discovered that a roti can actually be a very useful educational tool. Especially when it come to rotis. Map of Africa anyone? I can roll it out for you! Secondly, even though some rotis may not be edible, after allowing for a couple of hours of hardening they can be very useful Weapons Of Self Defense. I can put those Pepper Spray guys out of business, I tell you.

Cloud Nine

This morning Nikki was up as usual at the crack of dawn and merrily prancing around on our bed, as P and I lay there, caught between that state of deep slumber and impending wakefulness, trying to grab those blessed last five minutes of shut eye before the child decided to attempt her standard early morning deep dive off the bed stunt. Suddenly Nikki bounded over to my side of the bed and began peering at me closely to see if I was awake already. I opened one eye groggily, bracing myself for a possible nose tweak or a punch in the eye, our daily morning 'let's wake The Mommy Woman up' greeting. Instead Nikki suddenly bent over, gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, then put her arms around me in a hug, buried her face in my neck and babbled something softly in my ear. I just lay there, stunned initially, then overwhelmed, holding her, wishing I could hold on to the moment forever too.

Guess who's been walking around the house with a beatific smile plastered on her face today? :)

If The Mommy Woman is not alert AT ALL TIMES.....

......she may find herself drifting into gentle slumber as little Nikki plays nearby, only to awaken to the feel of some strange sort of scraping on her posterior. On closer examination she may find that the source of the gentle scraping is little Nikki herself, busy doing up The Mommy Woman's  posterior (in need of renovation, yes, but this may not quite have been what The Mommy Woman was thinking) with The Mommy Woman's favorite lip gloss. Further inspection may reveal that little Nikki is quite the budding artist and has generously given of her talent to paint the bedspread, the pillow covers, several patches of the floor and The Mommy Woman's new handbag as well. Just as The Mommy Woman is recovering from the effect these startling sights are bound to have, the doorbell may ring to announce the arrival of the not so friendly new neighbors, stopping by to ask some questions about the neighborhood. The Mommy Woman may ask them inside and offer them a cup of tea but as she walks into her living room she may hear some strange sort of squeaks and snorts and the new neighbors may quickly excuse themselves citing that all important purchase of groceries as the excuse. The Mommy Woman may feel a little perplexed at this strange behavior until she catches sight of herself in a mirror as she turns a corner and sees that her posterior, encased in white tracks, is now a brilliant, shiny, glossy PINK. Did you know that on a pristine white background pink stands out really well? Well it does. Vivid.

And to think this is a child who eschews crayons unless it is to generally toss them around.

First week at playschool and other assorted tales

We've finished our first week at the mother toddler playgroup and Nikki seems to be settling in rather well. She was a little wary of the general proceedings on the first day, keeping a keen eye on me to ensure I didn't wander off too far, but the next day on it was like she'd been doing this all along. She's already made a couple of friends and has even gotten herself a little admirer who has taken quite a fancy to her, insisting on hugging her hello and goodbye every time they meet. Nikki is quite scornful of all this attention though and brushes the poor little chap off disdainfully each time, but he is nothing if not persistent. The sessions at the playgroup are divided into motor skills, language skills and drama and no prizes for guessing which is Nikki's favorite! Its drama all the way; I knew I was being prescient when I christened her the little drama queen. She has an absolute blast in the drama class and is quite the life and soul of the music  and movement party that is an integral part of each session, with her little 'balle balle' jig and general shake that booty baybeh happening in full flow. At one of the sessions there was a puppet show and Nikki was beside herself with excitement at all the animal puppets that made an appearance. At first she was content to sit at the foot of the stage and wave a cheery 'hi' to each puppet that made an appearance but soon she figured out, from some clever peering under the screen, that there was someone back there making all the action happen and she made a beeline for the poor teacher-puppeteer's foot. I was quite enjoying the sight of the teacher hopping around to avoid her, when I noticed the other teacher glaring at me and quickly moved Nikki away. The other big hit with Nikki has been an activity where all the babies get to dress up like monkeys and prance around. Nikki took to her little monkey headgear and tail immediately,and spent a good ten minutes preening in front of the mirror, even giving herself little kisses in the mirror!

The motor skills class, with its fun educational toys is another hit with Nikki, its the language skills class with its rather large dose of structured activities that she likes the least. For this class requires the kids to sit down and go through a series of quiet-ish activities, and that doesn't go down too well with Nikki.  She likes doing things her way and any attempt at doing otherwise is met with instant and ear shattering mutiny.The teachers are finding this out the hard way. At one of the sessions a variety of toys were laid out in different corners and the mothers were supposed to spend a couple of  minutes playing with one toy and then move on to the next. Some of the toddlers didn't mind being moved around once their time was up at a particular toy, but not Nikki. She insisted on playing with the toys she wanted to, and moving on to the next toy at her own time and pace. When the teacher tried to direct her to a particular toy she promptly turned up her nose and marched off purposefully in the opposite direction to another toy just to make her point. Personally, I think its  fine if she wants to set her own pace and choose the toys she plays with, as long as she's not bothering any of the other kids but the teacher seemed to think otherwise. After a few more failed attempts at getting Nikki to play with toys in a particular order, the teacher finally decided she would try and teach Nikki to play with the toys the 'right' way instead of using her own creativity. The toy in question was a large bowl of colored  rice and a  shovel and the activity consisted of shoveling the rice into another empty bowl. Nikki was enjoying playing with the rice, feeling it slip between her fingers, scrunching it up in her fist, when the teacher tried showing her how to use the shovel. At first Nikki continued playing the way she wanted to, but soon she was done with   the interfering and the bowl of rice was emptied unceremoniously in the teacher's lap. Next, another teacher tried being helpful when Nikki was messing around with some colored play dough. She had been given a little rolling pin and board and was 'expected' to roll some chappatis with the dough. Nikki had turned the board upside down, placed the rolling pin in it and converted it into some sort of boat which she was busy decorating with bits of the dough. Pretty innovative, I thought! But the friendly teacher again interrupted her play to show her how to roll chappatis the proper way. Last seen, she was observed desperately trying to scrape off the dough from the seat of her pants where Nikki had plastered it. Overall though, its been fun so far and I think Nikki quite enjoys the entire experience. Yesterday, when I announced that we were off to 'school' she even got out her little bag and got S to pack a little box of raisins and her sippy cup of water to take along :) The other great thing about this school, like I've mentioned before, is the wonderful collection of books they have. We've been borrowing one every week and Nikki has been having a wonderful time with Spot The Dog's Big Touch and Feel Book and Itsy Bitsy Spider, which has brought her favorite rhyme wonderfully alive.

In other news, Nikki's artwork at school now occupies pride of place on our refrigerator, proudly displayed for all to see. Speaking of the fridge, Nikki seems to have developed a strong fascination with it and all that lies within it. She comes scampering up whenever the fridge is opened and trots off at top speed with whatever object catches her fancy. She's also lost interest in the collection of toys we had amassed for her playing pleasure and now insists on playing only with random household objects; kitchen utensils and fruits and vegetables being the favorites. We've had to write off many a mangled banana or a squeezed into inedible mush cucumber, after Nikki's done with them, all in the name of the greater good of learning. The Papa Man's empty beer cans are another hot favorite, but can have unfortunate consequences as I discovered recently. I walked into our balcony where Nikki and The Papa Man were playing last evening only to find our new neighbors giving us strange looks as  Nikki, in an effort to imitate her daddy, pretended to take long swigs from the empty beer can while The Papa Man chatted on his phone!

The sleep files continue to be tempestuous and unpredictable with the latest development being an abject revulsion to sleeping in the cot. Every night at 8.30ish, I put Nikki to bed in her cot. Every morning at 4am she wakes up screaming blue murder and insists on being transferred to our bed where on good days she nods off almost immediately, and on bad ones, frolics around for an hour or two. On the really screwed up days, we just give up, go with the flow and head out for an early breakfast to any place that serves extra strong, knock your eyeballs out coffee so that we're fit and fighting for the day that lies ahead. We went through a phase recently where Nikki took resistance to being put down for a nap or for the night to new levels. The Papa Man and I would take turns on the battle field before finally flopping down in weary surrender on the bed while Nikki would continue playing gleefully before tiring herself out and eventually retiring for the night. Thankfully that phase didn't last long else we would have made the dehydrated raccoon look a new fad in these parts. The resistance to sleeping in the cot has been on for a while though, thanks to which anyone who wanders into our bedroom anytime between the hours of 4 and 8 am will be spectator to the strange sight of The Papa Man and I lying at perpendicular angles on the two open sides of our bed to preempt any attempts at diving off the bed,  which Nikki is wont to do every time the thought strikes her fancy.
The other thing with Nikki is that because she resists sleep with such admirable tenacity, she often finally falls asleep in a strange pose resembling a long distance runner with her body all hunched up over the starting line. The fact that she also resembles a baby Spiderman with her newly tonsured look (although the hair is growing back at quite a brisk pace now, thank the Lord) makes this a strange sight indeed. And when she finally wakes up, oh joy!, she sits up with a great sense of urgency like she's running late for an important business meeting and starts chattering at top speed, to make for all the lost time when she was forced to sleep.

And now, since this seems to have turned into another one of those long, rambling, all over the place kind of posts ( I seem to be doing that a lot these days) and also because Nikki has deigned to take a nap, I think I will stop and catch up on some sleep myself (those 4am jaunts are TOUGH!). Will be back with bath tales 101, food fetishes, current fave activities (all I can say now is they involve cars and much shrieking) and other things Nikki!

A special rainy day recipe

Ingredients: A large helping of torrential rains, some blustering wind, one weary adult and one cranky toddler

Preparation time: Take as long as you like!

Serves: Enough to knock out an army!

Method:

1. Take a generous helping of a toddler who wakes up at 4 a.m. and promptly attempts to careen headfirst over sleeping parents into the fascinating abyss that lies beyond the bed, thereby causing parents to snap out of slumber pronto with near panic attacks.
2. Stir in some wailing and crying and resisting all attempts to go back to bed, deigning to finally do so only at 6.30 a.m. when it is time for the hapless parents to rise and shine, all bleary eyed.
3. Sprinkle some shrieking like the mother-is-an-axe-murderer when attempts are made to lather/ rinse/ wipe or any other such activity that takes away from the all important task of playing and splashing around in the bath water. Ensure that you add at least one teaspoon of getting the hapless mother soaking wet in the process.
4. Gently fold in some more screeching and prancing around on the bed immediately post-bath, wriggling out of the mother's grasp and making it a point to stay in the middle of the bed which she can't get to because of afore mentioned soaking wet status.
5. Briskly whip in a couple of kilos of the stuff babies make, making sure the diaper is freshly blessed only after the help has left the house so that there is no one to aid the defenseless mother from The Attack of The Fingers That Squish.
6. Deftly add The Fingers That Squish to the mix, making sure you use them for other purposes like touching all objects that the eye can see, thereby necessitating Operation Clean Up No. 1.
7. In the micro nano second that it takes the mother to slip on a fresh diaper, stir in the wriggling-out-of-the-grasp act again and pee in at least three empty spaces. Stir briskly to a smooth consistency.
8. Add some relentless wailing and being a general crank to taste.
8. Add some finely chopped messing around in the freshly peed in spaces, necessitating Operation Clean Up No 2.
9. Repeat Steps 3 & 4. This time make sure to add a generous helping of shrieking and relentless wailing as mother attempts to put on a fresh diaper and change of clothes.
10. Whip to a smooth consistency, stirring in some of throwing up of the dinner, necessitating Operation Clean Up No. 3.
11. Add a generous smattering of taking approximately one hour, forty five minutes and 15 seconds to go into a state of gentle sleep insisting only on the finest patting and rocking to get there, ignoring the fact that mother now looks and feels like a sixty year old on the brink of senility. Wait for the flavors to infuse.
12. Garnish with waking up at the sound of the slightest peep for at least thirty minutes more, drifting off finally into a resigned sort of sleep. We have a 4 a.m. appointment to keep after all.

Serve cold on a rainy day.

Tip: Works best in the absence of that fine ingredient, The Papa Man. Be sure to try when this ingredient is out of town, working late or is otherwise missing in action.