Inherited passion

Yesterday, Pickles and I went into a bookstore. I love spending time at bookstores. I could spend hours browsing and picking (and spending a fortune) and just being around books. It is however a pastime of the past now with Pickles and a full-time job. But yesterday, I had to pick up a couple of gifts for some upcoming birthday parties. And I generally like to buy books for kids rather than toys and I had to do it rather urgently. When Pickles and I set out from home, I'd thought it would be a quick entry and exit from the store.

So, Pickles is fond of books. We've been doing a lot of reading for him ever since he was born. He really shares my enthusiasm for them, of course he can't read just yet. And the library is one of his happy places. It's very hard to curb his enthusiasm on our weekly visits to the library. It's one of those things that he really looks forward to. I must mention at this point that I think the National Library is one of the best things about Singapore. And it is great that Pickles started out on his "reading" ventures here. He loves to run around and browse and pick books to read. Although most library staff are amused to see this little excited toddler happily browsing, some of them ask us to keep it down.  And although I didn't have to worry about keeping the silence, I still was nervous about the visit. And so, I set my very jittery feet into the bookstore with an excited toddler by my side. As we went in, I explained to him that this was a bookstore and not a library and he could not just pick up books to take home. I also told him that we were there to buy a present for his friend and he nodded like he understood and in a very adult tone said "OK".

And when we walked out, I was wondering why I worried at all. We stayed in the store for a good one and a half hour! And he was just as adult-like as I was. We walked into the different sections together and as I would look, he would browse too and would suggest "this one". I would then tell him why that particular book was not ok, and we would move on. He kept chattering on all the while about the different things in the books that he found interesting. And I managed to even browse for something for myself after I had picked up what I needed. The whole experience was such a joyful one, I almost had happy tears when I saw him sitting happily on the floor of the store, browsing for a while and putting the books back in place. I could see that he was as happy as I, when we were there. I had always hoped that he would enjoy books as much as I do but I hadn't expected that it would be this early.

I for one am very happy that he shares my love of books. I can't wait for the day when we can read our favourite books together and talk about them. Going by how fast things are moving, that day doesn't seem far at all.

Letting go

Milestones. They are those weird events that you wait for and yet when they actually happen, leave you with an ache in your heart. They sneak up on you when you least expect them to and before you know it, you are wishing to go back to old times. It is probably the fact that so many events seem to be happening so quickly in succession, but it suddenly seems so drastic to me.

It all started with the weaning. It was a huge milestone for me that passed with not as much difficulty as I had expected, considering that Pickles could be reasoned with, at most times.

And then recently, we converted his crib into a toddler bed, so he could slip in and out with ease without us having to worry that he will jump out of it. Pickles was of course very excited with this development and loved his new bed. It is indeed another matter that he hasn't really slept in it for longer than a couple of hours each night.

And the biggest change is his haircut! We shaved his head as per the traditional ceremony (more on that in another post) and his really cute curls are gone. And suddenly my little baby has turned into this cute little boy with big earnest eyes. I can hardly recognise him until he shyly gives me his special dimpled smile and hugs me with his eyes closed.

And I silently mourn this rite of passage that Pickles has made, from a cute baby to a naughty toddler. Just only until he puts his arms around my neck and says "I douve you, amma." Maybe toddlerhood isn't that bad after all.

Tracking changes

True to my word, here I am before the week is over with another post. For those of you who already kicked my ass (almost!), thanks but not yet, not this week at least.

Pickles turned two a couple of months ago and I'm so amazed by how many things have changed over and over from the time he was born until now. Actually, it's almost scary how much he has changed in the last few months! As much as I try to hold on to his baby-ness, this new toddler in my life is so much fun too. And although his neurons are making new synapses at an alarming pace, mine seem to slowing down all the more. So, I decided that I must chronicle all I can, before the phase is gone and long forgotten (or not!).

How he's moved on from almost no communication to being so assertive, is quite incredible! His love for diggers and vehicles has stayed on though. Starting with making sounds like ‘grrrr’ to describe them, he moved on to ‘ekataka’ and now he can actually say ‘excavator’ with so much poise, it makes me laugh. Although he can say truck perfectly well, he still says bugga bugga sometimes and I feel that he does it consiously just to appease me and let me know that he’s still my little baby. He still can’t say his R’s, so there’s still that and some fun words include mana-mana for banana (although it is mannana now), ungy (hungry), tain(train), ambela (for umbrella), kool (school) and many others.

The mobility! My baby has come a long way from the kicking to crawling to the unsteady gait. Now it is running all the way. I still can keep up but I know it wont be long before he’s out and about without me.

Gone are the days when he would wear anything that I liked. Now he wants in on any decision concerning him. He wants to choose his clothes, his toys and everything else. Its another matter that he also has strong opinions on what color I should or shouldn’t wear. As long as he says Pitty pitty amma, I’m happy most times to comply.

The new streak of independence is pretty remarkable too. Pickles insists on doing things by himself and good luck to me if I decide to so something that he doesn’t want done. The tantrums havent started yet but I can smell them in the air.

From terrible twos to threens and whatnot, I know soon I’ll be sad that my baby is off to college. I sound like every mom when I say, ‘Slow down, my baby. Let me just hold you a while longer!’

U: Up, up and away

Phew!

Now that I'm back, I can say that I made it through two flights with Pickles, albeit short ones. But hey, they still count!

So, when we were travelling this time, they wouldn't let Pickles sit on my lap with a baby belt because apparently he's too big (Sigh! I never realised) and both times, the air staff insisted on him sitting on his own seat. I had to figure out a way to make him sit tight and stay put during take off and landing. The good thing is that Pickles loves to listen to stories, especially his own and about people he knows or admires. As long as it has characters that he knows,  he will sit through anything. He has the cutest way of asking me for a story, he goes "One day.." and he leaves it for me to finish (You see one of his cousins started his stories like that) and then no matter what I say, he'll say "then.." and I go on and on. 

So this was our story for the day...

Pickles: One day...

Me: One day, Pickles was flying on an airplane.

Pickles: then...

Me: Then the airplane uncle said Pickles could not sit on amma's lap. He was a big boy and he has to sit on his own.

Pickles: big boy...then...

Me: But Pickles said he wanted to sit on amma's lap.

Pickles: then...

Me: But uncle said no.

Pickles: then...

Me: But Pickles cried and he said he wanted to sit on amma's lap.

Pickles: then...

Me: But uncle said he would give him a surprise if he would sit on his own.

Pickles: then...

This went on and on until the plane had taken off. And then I heaved a sigh of relief and said..

Then, Pickles sat on his own seat like a big boy! Pickles is a brave boy. Yay!

Until, he realised that the story was over and demanded,

Uncle, Surprise?! (Uncle, where is my surprise?)

G: Grandparents

"If I'd known grandchildren were so much fun, I'd have had them first."-Anon.

I read this somewhere recently and I thought to myself, no wonder grand parenting is so much fun. It is just the fun part of parenting without the need to do all the hard stuff. Also, you can dish out advice at your kids and argue about the same stuff that they thought was wrong when you were a kid and now suddenly it doesn't apply to their grandchild anymore!

But even so, there is something to be said about the new avatar that the grandparent dons in the presence of the grandchild. I agree I'm a relatively new mother but in these couple of years, I've seen both my parents and my in-laws turn into mush in the presence of Pickles. I've seen my strict disciplinarian dad (whose mere raised voice would make us burst into tears) make weird funny sounds for his giggling grandson. I stood there with my mouth open for a full five minutes when I heard him sing to Pickles. My mom on the other hand is changing her ways in the kitchen and learning new recipes just to watch her grandson relish the dishes she's cooked and be thanked by a 'thakku mamama' (thank you, grandma). Ma's learnt how to use whatsapp just to see pictures of Pickles and she insists I must send her one picture every day! I've watched my calm and serious Father-in-law do a little dance to put his grandson to bed. I've heard him roar in laughter over Pickles' silly antics. I find my mother-in-law doing research on the internet to help solve a problem that he might be having.

I guess it must be true. There is a proverb in hindi 'Asal se sooth jyada pyara hota hai', which literally translates to 'the interest is far dearer than the principal amount'. What it really means is that people love their grandchildren way more than they love their children themselves. I for one, am beginning to see the truth in that.

D: Dumptrucks and diggers

It all began with a bunch of flashcards. We had bought them with the intention to teach a fourteen month old Pickles more words. In one of the sets was a section on transport and vehicles. Pickles immediately took a liking to this set and in particular to one of a train and another of a motorcycle. I think they have been his most favourite possessions for a long time. I doubt any such cards have been so widely used and loved. But I digress. This post is not about those cards. It's about another one in the same set.

I came home from work one day to an exasperated looking G, who said Pickles was looking for something called a bugga-bugga and she couldn't for the life of her, figure out what it was. When I asked Pickles about it, he used his limited vocabulary to tell me the same thing,

"Bugga-bugga, amma?"

And he was looking everywhere for it. And help him, I did. I started asking him if it was this or that and he still kept looking. Finally, we all gave up and tried to get him distracted with other things and that was that. Later that night when we went to bed, he saw this flash card of a dump truck on the side of our bed and his face lit up. Immediately, he picked it up and said "bugga-bugga". And then it flashed! I had been telling him about animal sounds and continued with vehicle sounds and I may have said something that sounded like that.  And there began our tryst with 'bugga-bugga', which soon became "dumper tuck"(much to my dismay!). And of course along with it was "gggggrrrrrr", which eventually was "digger".

There came many many books from the library with the truck and digger labels. I was actually very surprised to find so many and it was oddly comforting to know that this is fascinating for many kids. We probably have read all of the books on diggers and dump trucks. We have spent many a mealtime and bus journeys with several of them. Pickles knows the names of most of the existing trucks (tipper truck, backhoe loader, articulated lorry, forklift and whatnot!). It is another matter that I know all about them now too, attributed to many many readings over and over again. Of course, along with it came the toys, some that R bought for his truck-crazed son and some of course which were gifts from friends. And now Pickles has a collection of trucks and diggers that'll put a builder to shame.

And now, ever since we've been in India, Pickles has been teaching his mamama (grandma) and everyone around, all about them and I wont be surprised if they'll have caught the bug before he's done.