Baggdu

Have I ever properly introduced Baggdu? He's our 6 year old lab. He's the most amazing dog you'll ever find. When he first became part of our little family, the family was a lot littler - just Vijay and I. He was the cutest little thing...I fell in love with him the minute I saw him. I wanted him so badly. But Vijay didn't want a dog at the time. For all the right logical reasons I'm sure. But just look at him in the picture below. Can I be blamed for not being able to resist him?

I don't really need to go into the details here, but let's just say Vijay feels like he was deceived into getting Baggdu home. He didn't know what was happening. I wonder why...he paid for the dog...shouldn't he have known what he paying for? Oh wait...maybe that's because I may have swiped his card on his behalf instead. That might somewhat explain the feeling of deception.

Anyway, it's six years on and dwelling on the fact  that I wasn't entirely above board about how he came to us won't get us anywhere. Vijay wholeheartedly agrees and never reminds me of this, especially on cold winter mornings when the dog, unaware of his role in our marital discord, whines next to Vijay's ear because he wants a brisk, foggy walk. Or when he refuses to climb stairs and demands to be carried up 6 flights after a sweaty walk if the lift is broken. Or when he gets into a rough and very stupid fight with a menacing street dog, neighbor's bulldog, or other out-of-his-league animal and needs to be rescued and nursed. It's all good, says a serenely smiling Vijay - what's done is done. Now that Baggdu is ours, let's enjoy him and never place blame on well-meaning, if slightly impulsive spouses.

Look at Baggdu now! All grown up. Still pretending to be dumb when it suits him and razor sharp when we're giving important instructions that involve procuring and consuming biscuits. The best thing about him is how gentle he is with the kids. He just loves them. He is at his happiest and most energetic in the morning when the kids wake up and come to our room. He runs to greet them and lick them and hug them as if they've just come back from a long holiday! He doesn't realize it but overwhelming groggy and unsteady on their feet kids with love and affection is a little pointless - they just yell at him or climb over him on to the bed to go right back to sleep. But I think he just can't help himself - especially around Vir. Vir loves him a lot too and it's a real joy to watch them together. It's a heartwarming scene that also helps Vijay forget all the hurt at being deceived 6 years ago.

Baggdu is also providing something of an education to the kids, albeit not in an age appropriate way. You see, the other thing about Baggdu, as you can probably figure out from that innocent face and virginal expression, is that he has never got lucky. We should have probably thought more about his needs, but you know...we got busy with the kids and his sex life was never really a prime concern. We could probably have had him neutered, but Vijay is still a little hopeful and doesn't want to unfairly take away the potential experience from Baggdu. As a result, sometimes the kids get to see a slightly excited version of their pet dog. So far, we haven't really thought of this as a problem. We thought the kids were too young to really notice. Until recently, when Vir came running in excitement to Vijay and announced, "Papa! Come and see! A pink missile is coming out of Baggdu!"

As always, we didn't know what to do with this and how to respond. I think Vijay just dodged it with some vague mumbling. I would probably have done the same - I mean, sometimes you need time to Google the right parenting approach before you have to use it, right?

So you see, we have a lot to thank Baggdu for - his gentle and loving presence in our family, his non-destructive, super peaceful approach to life, his non-demanding personality, and the latest, his educational value for the kids with regards to certain life skills. Now all that's left is the fulfillment of Vijay's only dream from a dog - someone to fetch the morning paper!

Changes

For the last few months, my work life has overtaken a lot of my other life. I'm in a job that I enjoy and that I'm good at and that is challenging and all that good stuff. I also really like making money - I make less than I spend, but I love offsetting every expense against my income in my little mental ledger. And since I offset one expense at a time, and my ledger doesn't come with an inbuilt "add" functionality, it all works towards making me think I'm totally self reliant.

It started with me saying I'll just work a few hours a day - while the kids are away at school. Then, there was that one urgent deadline that I just had to meet, so I switched on the TV for the kids and worked a couple of extra hours. Then there was a call that 5 people needed to be on and they were only available in the afternoon, so could I please make an exception and just dial in for a while? Then, some of the stuff I did was appreciated by folks in the office and I felt happy and wanted to do more so I could stay as good as they all said I was. Slowly, I found myself cutting back on park time with the kids, relying on my friends to take my kids to tennis class a little too often, being too tired to read them their bedtime stories, and too distracted by the latest deadline or crisis to really listen to what they were saying over the dinner table. None of this happened very suddenly...it just kept creeping up on me. I realized what was happening in flashes once in a while, so I started working late into the night thinking I could give them time that way...at least I wasn't working when they were awake. But that's really just a story I told myself...my lack of sleep makes me a pretty boring companion to them anyway and a less productive employee over time too.

Even Vir noticed what was going on. He's been asking me why I'm always messing with my phone and has even told me that when I'm on my computer all the time, it bothers him because I never listen to him or give him whatever he's asking for. He was very fair though, and told me that I could be on the computer "sometimes" as long as I still heard him out when he wanted to talk.

I had a bit of an enlightened moment today when everything seemed to come to a head...it was a super hot afternoon, there were painters all over my house (because I don't have enough to do and decided that getting the entire house painted would be the right thing to do right now), I was staring at my computer trying to be productive, not succeeding, so staring some more, while also taking one call after another, and the kids were just sort of hanging around the house with my maid trying her best to entertain them. Finally, Vir literally came up to me and broke down crying that he wanted something to do and someone to play with. For a moment there, I was actually too tired to even feel bad for him...I found myself looking at him thinking, "too bad, but what can I do?" And then immediately, "What the hell, woman? If you can't do something, then who will?" I decided to take the rest of the evening off. Vir had a doctor's appointment anyway, so I took both of them along. After we were done, we went to Modern Bazaar and shopped for groceries and then to a friend's house so our kids could play for a while. We came back and I put my phone away and, even though it was late, we pulled out a couple of story books and read them together before sleeping.

I cannot even describe what a change in mood I saw in my kids and myself as a result of this little bit of time spent with them. Nothing I did was an indulgence...simple grocery shopping...old story books...the magic was just in the fact that I switched off from everything else and simply focused on them for a while. The kids snuggled up to me and slept happily and I just lay there thinking...why have I let go of these simple rituals with them - spending time over splashy bubbly baths, dinner time conversations, art and craft activities, bed time stories? Small as they all seem - they're obviously important. If I let them go, the kids probably won't even be able to articulate what they're missing. But they'll lose out anyway. And me more than them.

I guess I'm writing this more to work this whole thing out for myself - it's time to figure out what's important and make time to do it. Over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to set myself some goals and make sure I achieve them. One happy side effect for my 3 readers - many more updates on this little blog. You won't  be ignored anymore little one because you're all about the kids too!

It's still May!

Still May - which means its not too late to write Tara's birthday post! I would have to write one you know - even if it was December...because Tara will learn to read very soon, and when she does, there will be some serious trouble for a certain writer of a certain blog in which a certain younger sibling will find herself certainly a little shortchanged.

But fear of serious consequences aside, I can't move on without acknowledging that my little little one is now 3! Recently, there was a splash pool party thingy at her school. They sent us pictures of all the kids splashing around in their little swimsuits. In one picture, Tara was standing grumpily, unhappy because the other kids were splashing water on her. When I came upon this picture, I almost didn't recognize her...how could this tall, grown up little girl be the Tara who, only just yesterday was a roly poly little baldy sitting on the floor with her bowl of Cheerios? I know all parents say their kids are growing up too fast, time is just flying, and so on. But they say it because it's true!! It's unbelievable and quite confusing, really.

Tara was super duper excited about her birthday. Of course, to her, it basically meant a cake and her friends. She didn't talk too much about presents. But I think that's just because her dream present had already been given to her by nani the month before. This dream was a water bottle which has a strap so you can hang it on your neck, and a little button, which, when pressed, shoots out the straw to drink from. Before she had it, I think she slept dreaming about it every night. Just thinking about a future where she would own that bottle would make her smile and go into a little reverie. Since I had told her she would get it on her birthday, this magical day took on a whole new meaning. My mom ended up getting her one before time when they went to Dehradun...she didn't take it off her neck for an entire week!

Tara's obsession for water bottles and cups and all manner of liquid containers is threatening to overflow all cabinets and shelves in our house. When she walks into a toy store, she knows exactly where the Barbie and Dora bottles are kept, heads straight there, makes her choice in less than a minute and walks right to the cash counter with it. It's up to me to give in right away or make a battle out of it. Sometimes, when I have the energy, I take on the battle and refuse to buy her another piece of junk. Never an easy thing to do to a 3-year old...especially one as fiery as Tara. With her accusing looks, finger pointing, and declarations of "main aapka friend nahin banoonga," she tries her best to bring me down. It's a win-win situation for me though...if I'm able to hold my ground and not buy the bottle, I feel very successful and proud that I have done the right thing and taught my daughter a valuable life lesson. If I can't take the pressure and just buy the damn thing, I get to see her so happy with something so small! The gleam in her eyes, big toothy smile, and "ab main aapka friend banoonga" is totally worth it even though I know she's just playing me!

Only she can get away with the stuff she does, but then she has the right to, doesn't she!? I take a little bit of pride in her sense of entitlement because it tells me she's happy here.

So happy birthday, lord and master of the Gogoi household. We're happy you're here too. 

The sibling bond

Vir: Mamma, you know what's the biggest number?
Me: No (I really don't)
Vir: It's Lupeto
Me: Lupeto? What's that?
Vir: It's the biggest number. It's bigger than infinity. It's bigger than everything.
Me: Cool. Who told you about this number?
Vir: Yash (the current source of all wisdom)
Me: Great. So I love you Lupeto, Vir.
Vir: I love you Lupeto.
Me: And how much do you love Papa?
Vir: Lupeto
Me: And nana nani?
Vir: Lupeto
Me: And aita and koka?
Vir: Lupeto
Me: And Tara?
Vir: One hundred

Erm...Belated Happy Birthday, Vir

I've already made my excuses for not writing for so long on this space (see post below). Things are the same...oh, except my maid went away, so they're a tad crazier even. I did promise myself though that I'd write Vir's birthday post within the month of Feb so that I could say his birthday was last month. It's so much sillier to say it was last to last month, right? So now that it's February 29th (whoever designed this calendar leap year thing did me a favor and didn't even know it), I think I'm running out of time.
So his birthday came and went. That's putting it very simply and not doing justice to the agonizing months, weeks, and days that he spent waiting for his special day that was to be filled with cakes and presents and presents and presents. In Vir's 4 year old mind, the day he turned 5, everything would change...he would have everything he ever wanted - race tracks, millions of Hotwheels cars, Disney cars...plus, of course, a party, balloons, a Chota Bheem cake, and all sorts of other happy stuff. Oh and the love and respect of all other older children on the school bus. After all, 4 year olds are babies. But not 5 year olds. 5 is the big league.

I'm happy to report that though we kept it relatively small, he did end up having a really good day. He was swimming in birthday presents and his friends and his cake did everything to make him feel special.

Of course, I also took the opportunity to drive home the point that life really does change the minute you turn 5 - you have to start eating every meal all by yourself, getting up sharp at 7:00 to get ready for school, and clean up your room all by yourself every day. Also, under no circumstances can you ever whine or cry as a 5 year old because that's totally unheard of, don't you know? Yeah...he believed me and it was good while it lasted. We had two really good days.

Honestly, 5 is such a great number. He's such a little boy now...not a toddler, not a preschooler, but a school going boy. Filled with mischief and crazy ideas and stories and misinformation and half baked truths and convoluted explanations and fantasies.

He's my little baby, who needs me every time something goes wrong and is miserable when I'm mad at him. He's his dad's little follower who made it a habit to run as fast as he could wherever he wanted to go, even if it was from one room to another within the house when Vijay completed the half marathon so he could be just like papa. He's the evil big brother who terrifies Tara by telling her that haircuts hurt a lot, that Bombay is filled with dinosaurs, and that mom has gone away and the lady who just walked into the room is someone else who just looks like mom.

Part baby and part big boy, part innocent and part worldly wise, part frustrating and big part lovable - our son has turned 5 in the blink of an eye and is well on his way to the next big phase of life as a schoolboy.

He does keep threatening to leave us and move to another family whenever we don't allow him TV or when we're being generally annoying, and has even offered to sell me to a friend in exchange for a nicer mom, but we'll pass that off as a heat of the moment thing. He knows we love him madly and thankfully, at 5, he has no problems showing us what we mean to him either.

P.S: Happy Birthday, little one. We're loving every moment.

Where is everybody?

Still very much here. When my kids grow up and read all about themselves, they'll wonder what they were up to during the long periods of silence on this blog. To them I will say - when you grow up and get married and have two brats of your own and a job and a house and a maid who keeps threatening to quit and then finally leaves and a mostly harmless dog and road trips to the gramps and cold, cold winters and lots of laundry that just won't dry - try to write a blog and try to be regular about it.

Only, I'll say this with a very pleasant tone. I might even smile fondly at my memories, while holding a cup of hot coffee in one hand and a favorite piece of fiction in the other. Becase this crazy time will then be in the past. Sigh.

Till then - irregular, yes. Crazy, yes. On the verge of nervous breakdown because kids holidays have lasted too long, yes. On the whole, very happy with how life is going, hell yes.

My little performers

My two and a half year old made her stage debut today! It was her school annual day and Tara played a little red fish in the school musical performance of The Rainbow Fish.

When I first heard that her school was planning an annual day, I didn't take it seriously at all. I thought it was just another show and tell kind of thing the school likes to do to keep parents happy. Her school is really big on the marketing front anyway, and I don't mind since I just ignore it for the most part. But when they sent me a circular saying the performance would be at a cultural center in the city in an auditorium and that I needed to deposit 800 bucks for a costume for her, I got pretty fussed about the whole thing. For one thing - 800 bucks for a fish costume? Really? I don't even buy her real clothes that cost that much. And knowing Tara (as I thought I did), I was pretty sure she would seriously injure anyone who tried to put her in a contraption that would make her look like a red fish.

But more importantly, I just didn't agree that a two and a half year old needed to be involved in anything that requires choreography and rehearsals and costumes. Why put her through that kind of stress? Don't we routinely ruin her days by doing terrible things like making her wear warm clothes in the winter, combing her unruly hair, putting her in tights that aren't tight enough, and asking her to wear shoes when she gets out of the house anyway? Why add to her troubles (and the troubles of all those within a 2km radius of her) by asking her to dress up as a fish and dance on a stage?

Besides, I couldn't see the objective of a stage performance for kids that age. What good could that possibly do for her? I can kind of see the point once they're Vir's age. When he had his school assembly and was Papa Bear, it really meant something to him. He was totally willing to put on a warm and fuzzy (and ugly) bear outfit and practice his lines because there was a sense of achievement to be had at the end of the beary hot event. Tara, on the other hand would have no clue what was going on. With this conviction, I went up to Tara's principal and asked her to remove Tara from the annual day performance and not expect her to show up on the day of the event. I can't describe the look the poor lady gave me. It was a mixture of distaste, disbelief, despair, and worry about the 800 bucks that I wouldn't be depositing and some other stuff only she could elaborate on. To her credit, she really tried to explain to me why she thought this whole event was a good idea. I stood my ground though and walked away feeling like I had really done a good job, taken a stand, stood up for my daughter's interests and other such. Damn the education system and all that I say.

So how did we get from there to today's performance? Howcome I'm writing about her stage debut when only a couple of weeks ago, I was seen walking out of the principal's office with a look of smug satisfaction on my face? Turns out Tara was really excited about the rehearsals in the school and just wouldn't be kept away. She did all the steps the teachers were practicing to perfection and was ever willing to show them off to us at home too. What's more - they had a dress rehearsal and Tara loved her red fish outfit. Her teacher call me to ask for my final decision on whether she would perform at the annual day or not. What could I do except chew my words and choke up 800 bucks?

Wouldn't you know it though, Tara turned out to be a complete natural on stage. Despite all initial misgivings, I was super excited to see her do her little dance and am proud to report that she was the best in her class. In fact in the whole school. No other kid swayed from side to side quite like she did and certainly no other kid could have looked cuter than my little red fish. Sad red fish who don't have beautiful scales because the Rainbow Fish just wouldn't share them don't come any cuter than this.

I could see her scanning the audience looking for us as she was dancing. When Vir ran up to a place where she could see him and called out, she called out to him and pointed but didn't even miss a beat or a step. She was busy making mental notes though, because when she finally met me after the performance, she looked at me accusingly and said "Vir mereko dekhne aaya....tu nahi aaya?" Little do you know little one that my eyes were on you every second of the way and that (though I'm really embarassed to confess) I even teared up at the thought of how much you've grown in just two and a half years.

Well, my eyes would have been on you and the rest of the play throughout had it not been for the diversion created by your big brother. Vir was so excited about the entire stage performance idea that he decided he needed to go up and contribute too. And the best thing to do, he thought, would be to tell a story. When he shared his intention with me, I, of course just laughed it off saying he could do that at his own school assembly. He was really serious though. So serious and so seriously hurt at being stopped that he spent the next 20  minutes howling loudly and uncontrollably that he wasn't being given his shot at fame. So there we were - Vijay and I - faced with yet another situation life had not prepared us for. One the one hand, a carefully prepped and choreographed school annual day complete with scripts and props and printed programs and harried teachers and nervous principal, and first row reserved for VIPs. On the other hand, a 5 year old kid who is taking it  very personally that he's not being allowed to show an audience of 250 people what he's really got and who might (we think) withdraw into a shell  if his talents were thwarted at this early age. What were a pair of insecure and unprepared parents to do?  Luckily for us, the principal opened up the stage to parents as part of her thank you address. We jumped at the opportunity, and requested her to let Vir have the stage for a while too. It was a little embarassing I must admit because this is the same principal, you might remember, from whose office I had been seen walking out with a look of smug satisfaction on my face not too long ago. Something about not wanting kids to perform on stage if I remember correctly.

Back to the point though. Vir got his chance. He wiped his tears, put on his game face and walked right up to the mic on stage under the spotlight in front of 250 people, took a deep breath and said, "Good morning parents. I will tell you the story of the Little Red Hen." And proceeded to narrate without a single fumble or error an entire story from beginning to the very end when all the farm animals were ready to eat the bread. It was at least 3-4 minutes of talk time and he was a pure natural through the whole thing. Vijay and I had no idea how to react. So we just sat back and watched our little boy do his thing!

Little red hen and little red fish - you surprise us every day and every day you make us proud! Of course, we're mostly totally unprepared for the stuff you throw at us, but in your defence, you never promised otherwise, did you?