Ummmm….so…like..are you..like reading this blog?

I check Sahana’s email randomly. She knows she shouldn’t have any expectations of privacy in social media till she is 18. Her journal, on the other hand, is her own, private sanctity, safe from her mother’s prying eyes. I respect her privacy in her journal completely. To be truthful, I am afraid to look at it, since she vents her anger in her journal and that anger, frustration is generally directed at me!

Anyway, one of her friends wrote ‘Ummmmm…so…like….why can’t you come on so and so date?’ I had heard Sahana and her peers talk that way, but to be writing like that? Isn’t that more typing? Who likes to type in today’s world of ‘idk’ and ‘ikr’ ‘omg’ and ‘rofl’? While we are talking about typing. I have seen Sahana delete the word “the” to replace it with “da”. Intrigued, I asked her the reason for doing that extra work. Her response was friends would think she had gone all “propah” on them!

I have spoken to other mothers, too many ‘like’s ‘ummmmmm’s, irritate them to no end. Why do they need to say so many ‘like’ s! Strangely enough, I find this kind of talk endearing and very age specific. Yes, I know, I may be the only one! I have seen most of them use such language with each other, but when they talk to grown ups, or give a presentation in class or in debate seminars they talk like we do…I was going to use the word normally, but as Sahana always points out ‘normal is relative’! The point is, this lingo is more of a bond between teenagers. By speaking this way they conform, belong and feel close to peers ‘I get you, bromie (bro and homie, in case you were wondering) even if the world doesn’t! I talk like you, I think LMFAO, Nicki Minaj and others of the same ilk are totally cool, even if the parents frown upon the lyrics!’ They will probably speak this way at age 12, 13 maybe 14 and then move on to becoming young women and men of grace and poise. Too much?

I am exactly where my mother was about twenty years ago.(I am becoming my mother, help!) She looked on indulgently as I used words which were ‘in’ those days. Through me she stayed connected with the happening lingo, fashion, music, cinema. She, in a way, made fun of certain words I used, my attitude, my long earrings, my elaborate bindis but I could tell she was slightly in awe of the young woman who I had become from the little girl who she held hands with, not too long ago. I was becoming a person in my own rights and while she missed her baby girl, there was the admiration and wonder in her eyes of the metamorphosis. I understand her now.

I joke around with Sahana about how she and her friends talk, the music she listens to, the gossip of celebrity that she brings home, yet in my mind I am in awe of this young woman I see emerging from my curly-haired baby girl. Already she teaches me how to write documents on google doc, she recommends books that I might like, discusses Pride and Prejudice, talks to her friends in a very teen agey way which is a desperate but cute attempt to sound mature and grown up!

Recently, I made a huge faux pas on Oscar night when I called the famous band Coldplay, Cole Slaw. My very hip and happening contemporaries shook their heads in despair and proclaimed that it is because of people like me our generation is getting a bad rep. After being duly chastised by my daughter and my friends I embarked on a journey to hip dom by listening to Sahana’s favorite songs on you tube. But the lyrics! Oh, the lyrics! I didn’t understand half the things I heard, the other half that I did understand made my face go red! The good thing that came out of all this is my reverence for my daughter’s ability to decipher the undecipherable music that blares from the radio – the raps, the computer generated/modified songs. I try to focus on the lyrics but all I hear is a human voice speaking gibberish. ‘What was that? What did he say?’ Sahana starts singing/rapping/howling along, enunciating each word for her mother’s benefit.

I cannot mask my admiration for my darling child, ‘How do you understand what they say?’

She answers back ‘How do you NOT?’

No honor to be had around here…

I was browsing through the work of the first graders pinned on the wall, while waiting to meet Ryan’s teacher for a conference. One project caught my attention, the children had written who they ‘honored’ and why. They were all very entertaining reads. I read all the writings and colorful illustrations with a smile while searching for the one written by my son. I was curious to find out who he had honored.

There was only one which had no name on it, and I knew that was Ryan’s by the curl of the tail of lower case ‘g’! That is his idea of writing in cursive, by curling the tail of g artistically. He had honored Zach! I admit, I was slightly crestfallen. There was a secret hope/desire that I would find him honoring his mother for feeding him (that has to come first, he loves his food), taking him to sports and practices( he loves sports next). I would get all misty eyed, go ‘awwww’ and make that my Facebook status update. But there it was, ‘I honor Zach because he is a great basketball player and he tries very hard.’ First I couldn’t even remember who Zach was, after racking my brain for a while and fearing that I was slowly losing my mind, I remembered Zach. He was a fellow teammate at Ryan’s basketball clinic whom Ryan had met only six weeks ago. He, indeed, was a good player, but Ryan and Zach were certainly not tight. They probably high-fived each other after a basket, but the camaraderie ended there.

Well, maybe their bond goes deeper than I thought. Still puzzled, I attended the conference, came home and forgot all about it. Today, at lunch I remembered my slight at not being honored. Who was this Zach who usurped my place in my boy’s heart, and wanted to get at the bottom of it. I laughingly asked Ryan why did he honor Zach, his other friends had written they honored their moms, dads, friends, army, military, firemen, astronauts etc, etc and he honored Zach, who he hardly knew??? He heard my spiel with a slight smile and said ‘Did you see the alphabet at the corner of the paper?’ I did see an alphabet, yes. He said, ‘I got to think of someone who I honored whose name began with the letter Z. At first, all I could think of was zebra, so I wrote I honored zebra because they are fast. But that didn’t sound good to me. So I thought some more and remembered Zach! His name begins with a Z and so I honored him. I wanted to honor you but I didn’t get the letter M!’

Seriously? Honor someone whose name begins with one of the most difficult alphabets in English language? Who would I have thought of? Emile Zola? Zachary Taylor? Of course, Mark Zuckerberg? Oh wait, we are talking of first grade, here!

I will give you four pennies if you give me ten dollars.

I often ‘borrow’ money from my children. I am always out of change for lunch money or snack money. So I tell them ‘Just take it out of your money jar, I will pay you back!’ I keep a mental count on how much I owe them and pay them back with a little interest…..most of the times. Sahana has smartened up lately, she puts all her money in a bank account and keeps nothing at home. Young Ryan loves his money jar and he can be seen, often times, sitting in a corner, counting his pennies and nickels. I look at him and think ‘Shylock’ in my head!

Recently, I took three dollars from the above mentioned, precious money jar and asked Sean to pay him back. Since we vowed to take care of each other at our marriage, we fulfil our promise. I take care of his nourishment, his laundry, our children, he takes care of me in tricky situations, like when I have to repay my debt!

The following conversation is a result of my eavesdropping. And I am recording this because I want Ryan to read this write-up when he is doing his Major in Math at Harvard!

Before Ryan’s bedtime, Sean went to return the three dollars and decided to make it a teaching moment as well.

‘Ryan, how much is 10 minus 7?’

‘3! Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy, all the way to Japaneze!’

‘Right, big guy! So I am giving you $10 and taking $7!’

A moment of silence, then a cry of desperation,

‘WHY ARE YOU TAKING $7 FROM MY MONEY JAR???’

‘But I am giving you $10 and taking $7! So you get back your $3! Remember you said 10 minus 7 is 3! So 7 plus 3 is 10! You had 7, now I am giving you 10 but taking away your 7! So you see, you have the $3 back that mommy took from you.’

At this point, I believe Sean proceeded to take his $7 back.

Wailing.

‘NO! NO! DON’T TAKE MY $7! I will give you four pennies if you give me that $10!’

More math. More teaching, a few moments of silence and then desperate pleading.

‘Take four pennies dad, for that $10! Not $7…..!’ Sniffles added at this point!

Sean said they will talk about it the next day and left it at that!

The next morning, when Ryan woke up for school, he rubbed his eyes, sat right up on the bed and said in a groggy, morning voice, ‘Can I have my $10 dollars, dad?’

We will talk about it tonight!’ I think Sean was scared to broach the subject…. understandably. He decided to break the ten at a store and give the boy 3 one dollar bills. He also thought of using poker chips or something of lesser value than $10 to teach this complex math fact!

Once, when Ryan was about four, I was trying to teach him subtraction. I made the mistake of saying, ‘Ry, if you have 5 candies and you give 3 candies to Sahana, how many candies will you have left?’ Without missing a beat, he said, ‘I don’t want to give ANY candies to Sahana!’ I debated which lesson to teach him at that moment! The lesson of sharing or subtraction! Decided to go with math, just had Sahana give her candies to Ryan. Things went smoothly from then on!

Tonight, before going to bed, I found Ryan standing quietly in front of Sean’s bedside table.

‘What are you doing here, buddy?’ I asked.

‘Trying to see where daddy put MY $10 dollars!’

Sean and I both looked at each other and then the letter proudly stuck on our refrigerator, saying, ‘Your child, Ryan Callahan has been invited to a first grade Math instructional seminar in school….’ It is an early form of Gifted and Talented program in Math!

A proud mommy moment (or a mean mommy moment, it is a matter of perspective, really)

The day started awfully! For once I had planned to do something with the kids, on their day off from school. I was going to surprise them with a movie and a lunch out. This, you have to understand, is a big deal for my deprived children. I never make plans to go to museums, aquariums etc on their off days. They play, read, write, lounge around or work. I only oblige when they request a trip to the library. So today was going to be special. I was happy to imagine their surprised faces. But…..the day started off badly with bickering, a lot of bickering. I tried to mediate by saying, ‘Make good choices, we are going to watch a movie and go out for lunch! Bad behavior will take the privilege away!’ ‘Really?? Awesome!!! All of a sudden, peace prevailed….for a while!

Half an hour before we were about to leave, a huge fight, complete with pushing, shoving, kicking, screaming, broke out. Instead of refereeing a ‘he kicked me’, ‘she tackled me to the ground’ sort of verbal boxing match, I calmly said, ‘I am so sorry guys, the movie is off!’ Complete silence and disbelief! Sahana has trouble saying sorry, her defiant comment was ‘Fine!’ Ryan gulped down the tears quickly and said, ‘I am sorry, we can go now, I am calm!’ We didn’t go, it was disappointing for all three of us since I was looking forward to the movie as well. But we had a wonderful conversation followed by a group hug! They listened to my reason for taking away the movie privilege – if we make bad choices, there are consequences. I asked them to tell me honestly what they did wrong that morning, without blaming each other. They did. Ryan apologized to Sahana for initiating the fight, Sahana said sorry for losing her temper and pinning him down. I said I was very sorry for taking away a fun morning but I hoped they understood my reason for doing so. They both agreed I had made the right choice! Phew! Close save from being termed the ‘mean mom’ (they probably thought that in their minds, didn’t verbalize it for fear of getting into trouble)!

We had a group hug and promised to try the fun outing on a next school holiday! It was a proud moment for me as a mother for several reasons. I didn’t lose my temper, I was so tempted NOT to follow through with the consequence (darn, I really wanted to watch the movie) but stuck with it (it was hard) but most importantly, the children accepted the punishment as a result of their action. They didn’t sulk or get angry, they said they messed up, next time, they will make a better choice! That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I have to say, their crestfallen faces made me feel like a scrooge. I hate to disappoint them, giving in is so easy! I also think this post is not going to make me very popular with my family and friends, is it?

You are having a boy!

Five year old Sahana was sitting at the ultra sound technician’s office with eyes tightly shut! We were about to find out the gender of the baby in my tummy, and Sahana wanted none of it. She wanted a baby sister and she wanted it to be a surprise! The nice technician said she was not going to say it out loud, but write it for us. When we found out, we told her she could open her eyes. She immediately demanded to know the sex of the baby! So much for keeping her eyes shut. Her face fell when she found out. A boy??? Eewwwwww!

Five years old in a beautiful, magical world.

I didn’t feel quite the same way, yet, I have to admit, the word boy sounded ominous for a second. Being an only child, and having parented a girl, I was ready for another one. But what did I know about boys? How would I ever relate? Sean kept reassuring me, boys are easier, and I tried to feel calm about parenting a rowdy boy! Poor Ryan never had a chance, I had already labeled him, before he was born.

Ryan turned out to be a laid back, sweet baby with the exuberance of a puppy. He loved rolling around in the grass, sliding on smooth surfaces scaring his mother that he will have no knees left by the time he is ten, romped around making loud scary sounds but also spent hours in his world of imagination with action figures and toy cars.

Parenting a boy and a girl has had its unique joys and challenges, for sure. The girl is verbal, shares stories…..unasked. I can easily put my arms around her in a crowded mall. She puts her arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze back. She has no problem being affectionate in public, but not the boy. If I put my arm around him in public I can feel his little body stiffen. His face goes red if I kiss him in front of his friends. Yet in the privacy of our home, he sits on my lap, we cuddle as he either reads a book or tells me stories of his life…. when asked. I live for those moments.

Sahana, as a little girl, lived in the world of ‘what if’s. Life was a beautiful, magical journey and she was full of joy and wonder of it all. Mostly I marveled at her imagination, sometimes I did say, “One more what if, then we will talk about something else!” Ryan is philosophical and pragmatic. He likes to think of profound thoughts like is God real even though He doesn’t have a mom and dad. Or what were the bad guys thinking when they flew two planes in the twin towers in New York! I mean what is the point in killing themselves and thousands and thousands of people. They made a very, very bad choice, indeed. He went a step further and called them ‘stupid’ with my permission.

Sahana’s school stories mainly were of academics, grades, school projects, girl dramas and crushes as she got older. And she is… let’s just say she can make a career as a thespian if things don’t work out as an anthropologist. Ryan’s stories of school generally revolve around two main ideas – recess and lunch. Last year, if asked what he liked most about school, he answered….. you guessed it, recess and lunch. This year physical education has found a place in his heart. I eagerly wait for math and reading to be included there somewhere…hasn’t happened yet! He seems blissfully unaware of any slights against him. “So and so told me not to sit next him today because I talk too much and he wanted to have a quiet bus ride!” “Did that make you feel bad?” I asked anxiously, ready to wrap him in my arms and wipe some tears. His surprised response was ‘Why?’ Ohhhh! Because…….

Ryan gave a reason for not talking to girls much, lately. He loves, or rather loved, playing with girls. He defended them when other boys said “Girls are disgusting.” His line was “Girls are not disgusting, your mom is a girl, do you think she is disgusting?” He came up with that on his own. So when I saw my champion defender of little girls not talking about them any more, I was curious. “Don’t you play with girls?” I asked. I loved that he stood up for his girl friends. He mostly ignored my question for as long as he could , finally he couldn’t withstand my interrogation (not many people can) and ‘fessed up, “I get cool stuff from the boys, they talk about real things. Girls talk too much about ‘what if’s!” He summed it up for me, the difference between parenting a boy and a girl. They balance my world, both the ‘what if’ and the ‘real’!

The risk takers.

Ryan recently wrote his first blog about sports and ended it with a sentence “After all, what is life without risk?” One of my dear friends, after reading his blog wanted to know what risks he had taken in his life thus far. Like a good publicist, I forwarded the question to the almost seven year old author, and smiled at him patronizingly expecting him to shrug and say ‘I don’t know!’ I thought he had written that line because it sounded good as a conclusion to his blog. He was quiet for a while and then came up with this “When Mrs._ asks us the spelling of a word I don’t know, I hear the sounds and try to guess the spelling. I raise my hand to give it a try, I take a risk then! My teacher always praises us for taking risks. When I balance on a log to go across a stream, I get scared I may fall, but I still try. And when I can do it, I feel very good about myself. That is taking risk. I didn’t know if I could swim a mile in the swim team practice, but I volunteered to do it anyway. I took a risk. Are these good examples?” I was amazed. These are not just good examples, they are great examples.

Taking risks begin when they let go of our fingers for the first time and enter the gates of preschool. What a huge risk that is, to leave the comfort of mom, home and everything familiar for the first time to go to a structured environment of work and play. Taking risks doesn’t
stop there, every new thing they try in their young lives is taking a chance, be it answering a question they are not sure about, in front of a room full of peers, diving off the block in the deep end of the pool, walking the halls of dreaded middle school at age eleven or navigating through the rocky roads of adolescence. But they do it, fearfully at first, and then with confidence, taking chances and growing a little bigger with each success.

I was happy he didn’t turn around and ask me “What risk are you taking in your life, Mom?” I wouldn’t have an answer for him. What chances am I taking these days? My partner in crime is trying to make a difference in the world, I tell myself I am keeping his world together so he can do his job well. That is my contribution to the world, vicariously, but that doesn’t seem convincing enough in my own mind any more.

I am considering bungee jumping on my next birthday. And just so you know, I am afraid of heights.

..and then the war began.

In our family, a major war begins with a simple nudge, an innocent poke or a certain look. The parents planned a family walk through the woods on a nice winter morning. It started off pleasantly, with good cheer but didn’t last. I documented the fight instead of mediating.

Sibling love. Parents heaving a sigh of relief. The walk was a good idea, after all.

Target Daddy but cracks forming in the wall of solidarity.

Prior to being pushed into a pricker bush - unintentional.

Being pushed into the above said pricker bush.

Grumpy face 2 who wouldn't let me take a closer shot.

Wild things…

First snow of the season in 2012! The boy and the dog couldn’t wait to get outside. The boy bundled up and called the dog to follow. I captured two happy souls and some happy moments in my camera!

Ryan believes Sage will outlive him. He will designate somebody to take care of Sage when his time finally comes. We tried to tell him, dogs don’t live that long. The thought brought tears, so we let it rest. I hope when he is a grown man, looking back upon his childhood, he will remember these happy times he spent with a big, yellow dog by his side.

First time…

What a simple thing, going up a ladder! Most of us won’t get excited about climbing up one, but not this young man. After waiting all his life, six long years, he was finally granted the permission to go up the ladder and hand his dad the christmas lights. The climb, an ordinary act for many, became so much more than that, for this child. The thrill of doing something for the first time, the sense of adventure, anicipation of what awaits at the top, the feeling of importance at being considered a big boy – all reflected on his face. It is a forward progression in his young life. For the first time, instead of the usual caution words, ‘be careful, don’t fall’, he was asked to do something dangerous and exciting . A little man, with responsibilities. It is a rite of passage for him. He knows it, his face shows it.

Help me find a “school for scolding.”

You know how parenting is like building a cathedral? You keep working at it with love and care but don’t see the fruit of your labor till the children grow up. Of course, they grow up to be caring, honest, loving, simply delightful human beings with no baggage at all. Then you realize you have presented the world with a beautiful piece of art. All those years of frustration….err, parenting are totally worth it, as you see the wonderful individual standing in front of you. Hmmmm, when I get carried away, I truly get carried away, don’t I? But one can hope! True or not, when I have just about had it with my kids, I clamp down my lips (so as not to scream), take deep breaths and tell myself ‘You are building a cathedral, you are building a cathedral! Stay calm! Ignore the sigh and the rolling of the eye, control that desire to smack the smirk off your beloved child’s face!” I guess what I am trying to say is, you don’t get to see what kind of job you are doing till the little ones are all grown up.

But both Sean and I got our performance evaluation as parents, by none other than our six year old son. We are doing an ok job of it, most of the time, but both of us are lousy when it comes to scolding! We are both failing….miserably. Over lunch, he told us, in no uncertain terms, that we both can work on our scolding. We can go to a scolding school, if we need to. He was dead serious!

According to him, daddy talks matter of factly, in a normal voice. Hearing this, Sahana, who generally lives in her own preteen world, oblivious to the going-ons in her family, chimed in “Oh, he raises his voice plenty, what are you talking about?” And with that valuable contribution, promptly went back to her la la land, dreaming of books, friends, middle school, smarticle particles and what ever else she thinks about. See how I didn’t mention boys? I am in denial! Ryan completely ignored Sahana’s input and continued with our progress report. He insisted daddy doesn’t have the proper scolding technique down since he tells Ryan in a “normal” voice not to do the naughty thing he is doing. Poor Ryan generally doesn’t pay much attention to it and continues to make a bad choice. And then, wham, without any warning dad takes a privilege away. If only Sean got the scolding down right, Ryan would pay attention, stop making that bad choice and not get the punishment. It is dad’s fault really, for not communicating his displeasure well.

And mom? Well, mom is on the other end of the spectrum. Mom could use a more business like voice instead of yelling. When mommy yells, it really doesn’t serve any purpose, you see (yes, he said these exact words). In fact, it bothers Sahana, if she is trying to study and it hurts his ears. His advise to me was to use more stern, “business like” tone instead of the loud, shrill, high pitched yelling that I use to convey how upset I am about things. Moreover, it probably disturbs the neighbors too. Uhhh, the more he talked the more I felt like a shrew! Goodness! Do I really sound that bad? Sahana broke her reverie to comment “He is right, mom!” Well, thank you! For the support!

So here I am, looking to enroll in a ‘scolding school’. If you know of one, pass along the info. Both my husband and I would be extremely grateful. Don’t want any cracks in the cathedral that I am building! And now that I know what we can improve on…..