Girls and boys and a lesson in chivalry

Dear H,

The other day as I was
taking my walk I saw you pulling a girl by her T-shirt. At least that’s what it seemed to me. She was yelling and struggling to free herself. I was appalled. I made you let go and
apologise too. Oh I did see those tears of anger, frustration and humiliation that sprang up in your eyes. I didn’t mean to humiliate you but this needed to be done.
Later, much later when
we’d both cooled down, you’d explained, “Ma we were playing Chor Police and I
was a Policeman. We have to hold the ‘thief’ to a count of 10 for him/her to be
declared out.”
“You cannot pull a
girl’s shirt,” I’d said.
“I wasn’t pulling, she
was. I was supposed to be holding her.”
“No matter what, you CANNOT pull a girl’s shirt,”
“Why,” you’d asked, ‘Why
can’t I ? That’s how she catches me too, that’s how I catch the boys and everyone is fine with it.”
You had a bit of a point. 
Here is my answer. Listen patiently for this is something that will stand you in good stead all your life.
The problem was not that you were holding that girl. The problem was that she didn’t like being held. That she was asking you to let go and you weren’t.

It’s simple, actually. If a girl doesn’t like you holding her T shirt, let go. If a boy doesn’t like it, let him go too. LISTEN to what the other person is saying.

Yes it’s tough. Yes it’s easy to get carried away by the game. Yes it’s easy to take people’s reactions for granted. But it’s crucial to remember that it’s a game only if all people playing it are enjoying it, or else it’s plain bullying. Sounds harsh, I know. You didn’t intend to bully, I know. But that’s what it was.

I hope that answers your ‘Why?’.

Here’s what you can do. ASK what everyone is comfortable with. Put the rules in place before you start a game. As you grow up you will realise, many times people don’t even speak out when something makes them uncomfortable. You have to learn to listen, even without words. This ‘watching out’ for the other person’s reaction is very very important. It’s called being ‘sensitive’.

And while we’re at it, here are a few more things for you to remember…

– Caring for other people’s
feelings is way more important than winning any game.

– Your responsibility
doesn’t end with good intentions. If the other person feels hurt, wronged or even uncomfortable by your behaviour, don’t do it. Take time to understand and explain.
– Open
doors, hold the lift, help with bags. Practise chivalry for no other reason but that you are a gentleman. 
– Respect not just girls,
not just people older to you, but everyone. You have an even greater
responsibility if the other person in not as strong as you.

– Never be an unintentional bully.

You might not always win the game but you’ll win over many many more people and that, dear H, is way more important and much more fun too. This is a BIG thing and needs plenty of practise, but you’ll get there. And like I always say ‘You are the best’. I know that.

Hugs and love,

Ma
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We’ve had our ‘big talk’. And I am hoping it made some impression. Have you handled similar queries from your son/nephew/friend’s son? So how do you teach a boy to be chivalrous without being sexist? How do you tell him he doesn’t need to do this because the other person (girl or not) is weaker but because he is stronger? Mothering, I tell you… is a hard hard task.

*********

Linking to Write Tribe’s super initiative ‘7 days of rediscovering your blogging grove’ where we blog seven days in a row according to a format. The idea is inspired by Darren Rowse. Today we had to ‘ANSWER A QUESTION’. 

Go find some more answers at the Write Tribe blog.

#Microblog Mondays – Chests and Breasts!

“I want to run at the Pinkathon too”, said H this weekend. I spoke about how I was participating in it here and H got all excited too.

“You cannot”, said I, “it’s for women only”.
“Why?” 
“Well because the race is to generate awareness about breast cancer and only women get breast cancer so the race is for women only.”
“Why don’t men get breast cancer?”
“Because men don’t have breasts.”
“But I have a breast”, said H pointing to his….well chest.

Apparently this is something I’d overlooked, using the unisex ‘chest’ rather than ‘breast’ when talking to the kids and they ended up using them interchangeably.

“Ummm.. That’s your chest, not a ‘breast’ “, said I struggling to explain the difference. 

After a long drawn out explanation H finally caught on. Then nodding his head wisely he summed it up – “Oh so women have breasts on their chests and men just have chests.” 

Yeah right.

Linking to # Microblog Mondays hosted by Stirrup Queens.

Edited to add: Going by the comments that breast cancer was not so uncommon among men any longer I decided to pass on the information to H. Here’s what he had to say..
“So some men get it too?”
“Yes.”
“Do some men also have a uterus?”
“No, they don’t.”
“Can you tell me a few diseases that ONLY men get?”

I’m off now..

#Microblog Mondays – Of Friends and Fitting in

A few weeks back as the twins were recovering from viral fever, they sat down to craft gifts for their teachers. H came up with this tippy-tippy-top flower for his teacher. He spent some time painstakingly making and colouring it, no mean achievement given that he’s not such a pro at either.

He put it away safely in his cupboard waiting to get well so he could take it to school. Then  his friend dropped by. He looked at the ‘flower’, examined it and asked, ‘What is this?’ I was waiting for H to proudly declare ‘I made this for my teacher’. To my complete surprise he replied, ‘Oh this? It’s just something my sister made. I don’t know why she left it in my cupboard.’

If only he understood what his
favourite author said!

He was embarrassed to admit he’d made it!! 

I cannot tell how saddened I am. 
Long long back when he was a toddler he asked me for a kitchen set. He loves to cook. He used to take it down to play. Then one day he told me, “I’ll play with my kitchen set only at home.” And then slowly he gave it up altogether. 

Of course that might have been a sign of changing interests, which would have been fine. But this, seems like pure peer pressure. My son is growing up and trying to ‘fit in’ and I’m scared. Not that he might not fit in, but that he might lose himself while trying to do so.

A big talk is in order! Any ideas how to go about it?

Linking to # Microblog Mondays hosted by Stirrup Queens.

An experiment in freedom

Saturday began on a very very sour note. H threw a huge tantrum bemoaning the fact that he had to follow too many rules. Washing his hands before eating, wearing his chappals all the time, putting his clothes for washing after changing, wearing his night suit, brushing his teeth, not getting enough screen time (computer/TV) ….. Apparently I was forcing him to play, to eat, to sleep…
To be fair to him he is a pretty independent child. He enjoys his studies and is very meticulous about them. He’s not a fussy eater either. In fact I have few complaints other than his computer addiction and his resistance to rules. He likes to do things his way which is often not the right way, of course according to me. And he argues! Gawd how he argues!
The Husband and I reasoned with him for about an hour. Then we both gave up and left him crying.

Freedom Day declared!

I got chatting with friend and blogger Shailaja and she directed me to a blogpost here by Sangeeta Sundaram on Freedom Day – a day with no rules, which children could be left to do what they wanted. Since we were at the weekend and as a mum I am always ready to try anything for a happier more peaceful home I decided to go with it. Besides, it was just a day, I reasoned, how bad could it get?
So Saturday was declared Freedom Day with just two rules.. No fighting and no messing the house.
H was ecstatic, though a bit unbelieving. N also thought it was a super idea.
The computer was switched on right then and H flitted between the television and the computer all day without signs of fatigue or boredom. He would come to check on me periodically to make sure I wasn’t angry. He’d dart in for a hug or an ‘I love you mama,’ every hour or so.
N meanwhile ran off to play throwing an ‘I-can-come-whenever-I-want-na, mama?’ over her shoulder. ‘Yes,’ said I and that was that.

At lunch time…

I have to admit I am a bit of a Nirupa Roy when it comes to food. I strongly believe that half of the crankiness of kids is either food or sleep related. A little after 1 pm H was hungry and just as I was about to suggest lunch he said he wanted to eat mangoes. So mangoes it was. By 2, though outwardly calm, I was pacing up and down mentally.
N turned up after 2.30 and sat down to watch TV.
I’d made their favourite Aaloo-puri in a sly bid to tempt them to eat on their own. I even filled my own plate, pretending to eat and sat watching that wretched Doremon with them to no avail. Finally H picked up pooris, just pooris, and munched on them sitting on the sofa while watching TV… And I kept my mouth shut.
N, the non eater was celebrating by not eating at all. Finally at 3.30 I left them to the tele and walked off.

Freedom is not everyone’s cup of tea

A little later N came in.. Crying. ‘My head is hurting ma’, she said, ‘may I sleep with you?’ I agreed then suggested.. ‘Maybe your head is hurting because you haven’t eaten anything’. That brought around a fresh bout of tears..

‘I don’t want this freedom say sobbed N. May I have lunch?’
I have to admit I felt a smug kind of happiness!!
And that was it for her.

But some truly take to it

H continued to have a ball till about 10. He refused his friends when they asked him to come down to play. N crashed by the television. H had major plans of staying awake till after 12 but exhausted by the marathon computer session he too agreed to go to bed when The Husband suggested it.

What now?

Now I am a bit confused about the outcome of the experiment. N told me pretty categorically.. She preferred an ‘Angel Day’ .
But what about H?
I have to admit there was total peace at home. The children didn’t fight at all which is just so rare, it might be the single reason I try this out another day. They coordinated with each other taking turns at the comp and the tele. In any case since N is a more outdoor person there was barely any clash.
However, is it okay to let H spend the entire day at the comp? Or for N to stay outdoor for four or five hours at a stretch? Maybe it is, since it’s just a day… I’m not sure at all. What do you say guys? Is it okay to have a Freedom day say once in a month?

K is for kiddie talk

My blog’s in imminent danger of dying… of boredom. Hence today I bring out my star performers to perk things up – my bachchas – a tried and tested way to infuse some life in this space. 

They’re growing up fast and instances of me laughing at their expense are getting fewer. Not far is the day when they’ll be laughing at me. Quite like my niece. She was puzzled when her mum (my cousin) started signing off her messages with Lol.  It was much later that she discovered my cousin thought Lol stood for ‘Lots of Love’. That now is a family joke.

The point I’m trying to make is that before the kids get a chance to laugh at me I might as well enjoy their little gaffes. 

These are dedicated to my son, H. Here goes..

He was passing me empty bottles as I filled them up with water. And he says, “We’re almost done Ma. There’s one bottle that’s half filled and this last one is already… Fulfilled.”

Another day in the kitchen he watched me flip over a pancake, completely awed. (I swear only my kids are awed by my cooking skills). Then says he, “Mama you’re such a great cooker.” Come to think of it ‘Cookie’ suits me better. And while we’re at it.. I’m a great mixer too.

While holidaying at a resort he drove us crazy saying he wanted to play Goose Ball. Wondering what that is.. take a look…

 While telling me about an exceptionally naughty classmate he concluded with, “I think his marbles are lost… his adaptation of ‘Losing one’s marbles’.

So what’s the funniest thing your kids have said to you?

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For more ‘K’ entries at the fun Challenge, ABC Wednesday, go here.