The best sort of worries..

…have to be the unfounded ones…

One of the biggest worries I had with all this shuttling back and forth, across countries was Daughter.

One of the reasons I wanted to move back to Bangalore was to put an end to our nomadic lifestyle and put down roots. The dream that I had of daughter growing up in one place, with friends that she would have known for ages. Not a huge deal, I know, but one can fantasize..

Clearly that was not what was ordained for us. And it really worried me that we were turning daughter’s life upside-down, too much, too often. The biggest challenge has always been getting the right school. By the right school, what mean, if course, if the right environment for her, where she is allowed to be herself, while being pushed into improving herself.. Too much to ask for, I know. Any school will do, as far as she’s happy, I guess. In India, I just went with the only school where I managed to get admission into, hoping that it would be fine. It was, thankfully, and it also had loads of children from our apartment so things were smooth.

Moving back to UK, came with its own set of school related worries. Especially since it was midterm, and chances of getting anywhere decent would be slim. I had resigned to the fact that she might get into some not-so-great schools, as the others would certainly be over subscribed.

To my absolute astonishment(delighted astonishment, I have to say), she got into a very good school. A bit farther than I would have liked, but that hardly matters, does it, as far as she is in a happy, secure environment.

It was her first day today, and she is back happy. Can’t ask for more.

Just to make note of a milestone..

.. daughter’s very first exam!

She did take a ballet exam last year, but this would be her first academic exam. And I am the only one worried about it, it’s just another day for her!

She woke up at 5:30 this morning, and says,’I can’t wait to get to school today!,’ my ears couldn’t believe it! Really? That excited about exams? But then she went on to say, ‘I can’t wait to wish S on his birthday!’. It’s her friend S’s birthday, and clearly birthday are far far more important than exams

If she remains this cool about exams, I would certainly be the happiest mum!

Parenting help!

Some times I wonder if I am a minority.

A minority who feels that as a parent we need to guide our children and stop them when they do the wrong things. Ok, most parents would be with me on that. Let me try and put it better. The guidelines deciding what is wrong and what is acceptable seems to be the problem area. Foul language, for instance. I came across a 10-11 year old using ‘WTF’ very easily. Not once, but three times. I moved away from there after that, but she said it so casually, it certainly did not look like she was saying it for the first time. It shocked me, to say the least.

How do you guys handle bad language? I discussed with a few parents here and they seemed quite relaxed about it. And that, alarmed me, to be honest.

Is it alright to just ignore it because we cannot ‘control it’ or ‘control the children’? Or because if we stop them, they might use it more to just annoy us? Or they would use it anyway, when we are not around, so why even bother?

I was flabbergasted by these responses… How can we as parents look the other way? And why is it thought of as controlling? Surely children will understand if we explain to them, rather than getting cross at them? Surely we don’t need to ‘control’ so much as we need to guide. And surely are we not assuming the worst of our children and not giving them the chance to be better people?

Child Play

Long ago, before daughter was born, I remember going to Toys-R-Us and going a little crazy myself.

We had just found out the gender of our baby. No, not illegally, we were in the UK then, and was overjoyed to know that we were to have a daughter. I wanted to go and buy all sorts of stuff, but somewhere, the cautious me, stopped the frivolous me. And I had read of people who had been told the wrong gender, so decided not to jinx it. Yes, I know, I am a little crazy:-)

We ended up buying gender neutral beddings and nursery accessories that day. Since that day, Toys-R-Us has been  a regular haunt, but we never bought too many things. Most of daughter’s toys are gifts. We do buy her stuff, but it is very controlled. And truth be told, she is perfectly happy too. She’s happy enough to window shop, and come home empty handed. Although, I have to say, the one place where it gets difficult to get her out without buying anything is a book shop. But, that’s a different story for a different day.

We realized quite early she was more fascinated by mundane things than her actual toys. Pieces of paper, cardboard, ribbons from gift wrapped presents, a shiny piece of gift wrapping… And she could play for hours with odds and ends. She once made a picture of a friend of hers with her assorted odds and ends. If you knew her friend, you would admit that there was a definite likeness.

We would find thermocol ripped into pieces, paper cut into tiny pieces, driving us crazy sometimes. Why couldn’t the child play with regular toys for a change? She would, but in her own way. The dolls house would have all sorts of inhabitants, the toy laptop would become the check-in desk at the airport.. All sorts of stuff.

I have to admit, it makes me glad that she lets her imagination loose. That she finds can think beyond what the toy manufacturers must have envisaged fir their toys.

We had been to a lake in Wayanad. As we walked the path by the lake, daughter found ways of entertaining herself. Jumping on the uneven pathway, she created ‘levels’ and rules for herself. She went up to ‘Level 4′:-)

Watching her play, finding ways of entertaining herself, I feel so grateful. Grateful that in the midst of technology and toys of all sorts, she(and most other children) still plays games that are so natural and so intuitive. That anything can become fun, if we let it.

Night Road by Kristin Hannah

A book that was recommended by Goodreads. An author I had never heard of, but I guess, now on, I will be keeping an eye out for her books.

For Jude Farraday, a mother of twins, the last eighteen years of her life had been around her children. Mia and Zach, the twins were different personalities. Zach was the super confident boy with all the girls fawning over him. Mia was a shy teenager, who some girls made friends with just to be able to get close to Zach. They lived a seemingly perfect life, in a perfect community.

Lexi Baill, a former foster child moves into their community and ends up as Mia’s best friend. Jude takes Lexi under her wing and tries to make up for the unfortunate life that she had, in whatever little ways she could, without making Lexi feel like a charity case. For the first time in her life, Mia has a friend she can count on, someone who she trusts. Zach and Lexi end up falling in love, which initially upset Mia, but she manages to overcome it, and the three become close buddies.

It is senior year of high school, and the three of them, are in the process of applying for admissions into colleges. Jude starts to feel her control over the twins slipping, she starts to get worried about how close Zach and Lexi seem to be getting. The foreboding of danger that she had, turns into reality when one night, everything changes for the Faraday family and Lexi. A nightmare that they never would have imagined in their wildest dreams. One that shatters them and overnight, from a loving close-knit family, they become a shell of a family.

Jude is in put in a position of having to forgive someone who, in her mind, is the reason for her loss, her tragedy. Jude has to forgive, or live in bitterness. Her sadness and bitterness transforms her into someone totally different from what she had been. It was almost as if her capacity to love had been turned off. All the characters in the book are believable, real and people we start empathizing with.

A beautiful book, am absolute page turner. A book that explores the situation from all view points. From the teenagers(in different situations), from the mother’s when she is unable to let go, and when tragedy strikes. Of love that can be enduring, and lifelong. Of times when forgiving can get one the peace that one longs for. A book that pulls at your heart-strings, and makes you wish that you could just make it all perfect. The pain that the protagonists go through, and the hope that it ends with. An absolutely lovely book. A recommended read.

Parenting throws you a googly…

…every now and then, having you wonder about your choices and decisions. And for me these days, everything becomes a trigger to wonder if we made a mistake about relocating.

Not relocating actually, but probably having moved before husband got a job in India, adding to the confusion.

The last two days, daughter has been waking up – tired. She had been sleeping slightly later than her regular time, but I thought that she would be alright. Yesterday and the day before, she woke up – tired and weepy. That never happens. She is my sunshine girl, always bright in the morning, up with a bounce, cheerful and full of beans at 6 in the morning. The day before, she was a little less bright, but was fine by the time she went to school. She was her usual self when she returned. Yesterday, she woke up grumpy, despite having gone to bed on time. She claimed that she was tired. She did not seem unwell in any way. So I tried to cheer her up, acted goofy, tried everything – but nothing would bring a smile to my normally cheerful child.

I managed to get her ready and just before boarding the school bus, she burst into tears. I was taken aback. I asked her if she wanted to stay home – she never ever likes missing school. Not even when she is ill. Never in her life has she cried before going to school. She normally just waves me off, all excited about her day ahead. Yesterday, all she did was shake her head and look miserable. The teachers in her bus gave her hugs and told me that she would be fine.

As I walked home, all I could hope was that she would be alright. A hundred doubts ran through my mind. Was I too hard on her. Did she feel that she could not tell me what she was going through. Or worse, did I ignore some important message that she tried giving me. Was there something happening at school that made her miserable. Wracked by guilt and worries, wondering, questioning everything, going right back to the relocation issue. Should I have just sent her to an international school rather than the ‘middle class’ school that this one was. All sorts of worries and doubts. Finally, I made up my mind to go and see her at school at lunch time. Her school is quite nice in that sense. They had no problems with me dropping in to check on her.

Waiting for mid-day to come was another torture, but finally it was lunch time and I rushed into the school, and cast my eyes on the field. Where was daughter? Oh! There she was – cheerfully playing with a couple of her friends. I went up to her to surprise her. Was she excited! She came running, flinging her arms around me, at the same time, questioning me,’Amma, what are you doing here? This is school time!’. When I told her that I just wanted to check on her as she seemed upset in the morning, she says, ‘But I was just tired, I’m fine now’.

And that was it. All I could feel was relief washing over me. She was fine… I must have seemed like a mad, crazy parent, but those few hours really were torturous for me. Normally, I might not have worried so much, but with all the confusion that is our life right now, all I can try and do is be there for daughter, and that morning, I really felt that I had perhaps let her down.

Thankfully, she seems fine today. I got her in bed early and she woke her to her normal cheerful self.Nothing, absolutely nothing felt better than seeing her happy face in the morning, reading a book, while sipping her milk. All I can hope for is for her to have – sunny mornings all her life. And for this single parenting business to end soon. I so miss being able to talk to husband about these things. By the time it is his morning, the issues would get resolved.

Vanishing Acts by Jodi Picoult

Just when I think, I’ve read all of her books, I come across one more that I haven’t! And there is nothing that beats that feeling! I just love her books.

Delia Hopkins is happy, living in rural New Hampshire, with her daughter and fiancee and her widowed father who brought her up all by himself. She works as a search and rescue professional, assisted by her bloodhound. She has all that she holds dear, close by her, her daughter, father Andrew, fiance, Eric and close friend, Fitz. Her happy, peaceful is suddenly shattered when police lands up at her door step. Turns out that she had been kidnapped – by her own father. Everything she believed in seems to be a farce.

All she could do was ask Eric to defend her father. As the story unfolds, it throws Delia into the deep end. Everything she believed in, is now questioned. The father who was a devoted father turns out to be a kidnapper who stole her away from her own mother. What went wrong? What made her father do this – Are questions that haunt Delia. To add to it all, the mother she believed was dead, was very much alive. The mother who had been separated from her daughter for 28 years. Now a mother herself, Delia is in a tough position, of trying to believe the best of her dad, while trying to realign herself to the new truths that she discovers.

Typical of Picoult’s writings, the book handles situations that are emotionally tough, and makes the reader wonder how they would have handled such a situation. A tale of human weaknesses and reactions and relationships. Picoult spins tales that question boundaries. How far can a parent go to protect their child? Can anything justify the step, Andrew took. The characters are well formed, and the story grips you. A typical Jodi Picoult. I would definitely recommend it to Picoult fans.

Street smart or just bad mannered..

.. is something that depends on how we view it, is something I’ve come to understand.

I’ve heard people pass judgments on NRI children for numerous faults(perceived and read) of theirs. To be honest, I am yet to meet those NRI kids who seem to be super fussy, or refuse to mix with people in India. Most of our friends kids have a wonderful time in India, just like daughter always did. All the years we lived abroad, we used to make a yearly trip to India, and had never found daughter facing any trouble fitting in. She made friends easily with her cousins, and always had a wonderful time in India. One of the reasons why it was quite easy for us to take the step of moving back to India.

A few days after we came here, we were at the apartment play ground, when some other girls came to play there. Daughter wanted to join them, so I asked her to go ahead, and try saying a ‘Hi’. She did, and much to her surprise, they saw her, heard her, and yet chose to ignore her completely. She was surprised and upset. That incident made her worry if her new school mates would be just as rude. Thankfully, she made friends with other children who had joined at the same time as her, and she was happy. She’s had company and she slowly started making new friends as well. Once in a while, I would hear of children being a little rude- and that I would ask her to ignore. There would be instances of some child telling her that she can’t join the group and other stuff like that. Which I’ve just asked her to ignore and find someone else to play with. Mostly, she’s been happy. Her friends are nice and sweet, and she feels happy around them.

Yesterday, daughter was cycling and I was walking beside her when I overheard a bunch of kids talking. They were almost ragging one of the children. There was this ‘leader’ who was leading in her taunts. She said rather unkind things to this girl, and the others followed suit. Finally, the poor kid, was almost in tears, when they started berating her for crying like a baby. Until then, I wasn’t sure if I should intervene or ignore, but something snapped in me. I couldn’t just watch them. So I walked up to them and asked them what was going on.
Immediately one of them said, ‘She’s crying for no reason’.

So I asked her, ‘Did you say anything to make her cry?’. No, came the answer, she just cries for no reason. So then I told them that I heard everything that they said, and to say the least, they had been very unkind. I also told them that if they don’t want to play with someone, that’s fine, but it is wrong to bully someone like this. I asked them to think how they would feel if someone did the same to them. Thankfully they seemed to understand and they apologized and played nicely with her the whole evening. But it made me sad to see how easily children learn this tricks of picking on people, of creating groups and leaders..

As some one was telling me, people encourage their children to be street smart, mistaking bullying behaviour for assertiveness and smartness. Being assertive is a wonderful trait in any child, but walking over others and bullying is another thing. From what I’ve seen in the few weeks that I have been here, it’s quite a common assumption that a child who is a bully is actually street smart and that is something positive.

Another friend was mentioning how her child(6 year old) was called a ‘Fool’ just because he was playing in a playground in which others were playing as well. The saddest part was that their mothers were right there, and nobody bothered to stop that child. My friend was mentioning that her son is quite sensitive and this sort of things affect him.

It really makes me wonder, just when being bad mannered and uncouth, has become a good thing, and when being street smart meant walking over others. And just as all NRI kids are not bad mannered, all Indian kids are not perfectly well-mannered either.

I’d rather have my daughter grow up gentle, assertive and standing up for the right causes – no matter which part of the world she grows up in. If she is considered non-street-smart, so be it.

Swear words and bad bad songs

During daughter’s last week in school in Leeds, she came home and said, ‘Amma, you need to tell me what swear words are’.

Me: ‘Swear words are bad words, that we should not use.’

Daughter: ‘I know that! I want to know some swear words so that I can recognize them when some one uses them’.

Me: ‘But for that I will have to tell you the words, that means, I will have to say bad words, isn’t it? That won’t be right, will it?’

Daughter: ‘Hmmm. You know, there is a song which has swear words’.

Me, Flabbergasted,’ Which one, and how do you know!’

Daughter: J(a British Asian Classmate of hers), was humming- Sheela Sheela Shaani, and A( another British Asian classmate of hers) told me that that song is a bad, bad song, and has loads of swear words’!

Apparently J goes to Bollywood dance lessons and learnt the song from there.

On a different note, Daughter is happy in her new school – so far, fingers-crossed. The only thing that puzzles her a bit is the fact that all the children have ‘strange names’

Banking lessons and Democracy

So we had a banking lesson yesterday. And a lesson in democratic parenting for me

I was shopping and daughter saw me enter my credit card pin, and managed to see the number I entered. She was so excited that she almost shouted it out loud, much to my horror. Dragging her out of the shop, I explained to her that the pin number is very special and is different for each of us. If we let others know our pin, if you card gets stolen, by mischance, someone else could use our card and buy things – that would similar to someone stealing our money. So we should never tell anyone else our pin numbers, and never say it aloud, even if you see me enter it.

So then started a bunch of questions.

Q. When can I have a credit card?

A. When you are a grown up.

Q. When I am eighteen?

A. Yes, when you are eighteen.

Q. So Amma, I have a doubt. When you are about to become a grownup, when you are about to turn eighteen, how do you get your pin?

A. *Now that needs a lot more explanation, doesn’t it? So I gave a short, retail banking overview – on how you open an account, and then request for a card- I even explained credit cards and debit cards -don’t even ask me to repeat it here And then the bank sends you your secret pin number, which you have to keep to yourself.

Daughter: OK. I get it now! And now, I know your pin number too –  it’s ****!

In full volume by the way! Arghh!!! I should have just gone the non-democratic parenting way and told her, ‘One  word out of you and no toys for life’! That would have worked far better

On another motherhood note, TGND shared a post about motherhood and aspirations for our children, it had me nodding away. Do share what you feel.