Tag: kids

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People on the playground

I’m obsessivemom remember? So today in search of ‘People’ I go to my favourite playing field – the children’s school… on Sports Day.. and I’ll see what ‘people’ I find. So are you with me folks? This is going to be fun. 

Even as we saunter in.. “Excuse me, please,” says someone and breezes ahead without a backward glance. 

This is a lady in a hurry for she’s the 
Eager-beaver mum
She’s the first to arrive, first to find the best seat. She’s the one who will crane her neck and strain her eye to spot her kid in the crowd. She will wave and blow kisses as soon as she does so and will continue to wave long after the child’s melted away in the sea of uniforms. But hey what’s this pushing at her chair, poking at her feet blocking her view of her darling daughter? 

Move over.. he’s the
Photo-fanatic dad
He is armed with multiple cameras and that’s his tripod. He will set it up with great care (for the tripod not for other parents who are mere obstacles in his photographic journey). Oh he will smile out a perfunctory sorry, for he is a gentleman. But it’s advisable to keep your distance as he tries some fifty camera angles until finally he finds the perfect one. Then he will proceed to video the entire show. Entire! All the while he will issue instructions to the wife to keep clicking stills. He’s not merely clicking pictures, he’s making memories for his dear darling. If she wins the race he’ll pluck out his camera from the tripod and race to the victory stand to zoom in onto that winning smile. It has to be captured in all it’s nuances, right? Aargh… what’s this in front of his camera?

Oooh don’t mess with her for she’s the 
You-gotta-win mum
You’ve got to hand it to her for her focus. She’s here only for that one single race, the one in which her Rohan is running. Once the whistle blows she is in their element. “Come on Rohan.. Come on .. Faster baby..faster… We’ve done faster at home.. No no no.. DO NOT look back.. I TOLD you not to look back EVER.. Eyes at the finish line.. Come on..”. She has the strongest lungs and the loudest claps. Oops Rohan slipped.. “Get up Rohan.. you can still do it,” says she. No matter that it was she who distracted him in the first place, no matter that little Rohan couldn’t care less. No sir.. She’s unstoppable. If Rohan doesn’t win there’s bound to have been foul play. “Didn’t you see the winner started off before the whistle?” Or “The judges didn’t look properly. I SAW Rohan cross the line first. Yes I did.“

“Relax lady will you? I am trying to hold a conversation here,” says the gentleman in the suit. He’s the 
when-will-this-be-over dad
He’s the busy executive always on his iPhone. At the same time he is trying to study some figures on his iPad. He’s probably been dragged there by the kids and his wife. (Lord save him if he has to deal with an eager-beaver mum or worse a you-gotta-win mum). He’ll shut his iPad for a moment when his son’s race comes on. Even as young Vedant runs to the finish line he’s probably thinking..’Gosh I forgot to tell Smriti to send off that fax’. The crowd, the noise don’t much register. However there’s one person who’s really studying the crowd. 

She’s our fashionista mum
She’s impeccably dressed. Her straight dark black hair fall to her shoulders in one shiny wave. As she settles the d&g glares on her head she flashes meticulously applied coral nail paint on her perfectly manicured fingers. Her shoes are Jimmy Choos and her bag is Gucci. A delicate umbrella shields her from the sun. She cannot risk the tan. She scours the crowd rating the men and women. “Blue denims everywhere.. boring, boring! Oooh burgundy trousers.. must get one of those. That fuchsia’s great. But teaming it with black? Nope doesn’t do anything for it, white’s the colour. Yeah fuchsia and white. Ugh.. sneakers.. orange sneakers..”

Don’t balk fashionista mum, meet the 
Super-sporty mum
She’s the one who’ll gladly spend her life in sports shoes and a tee that says ‘I PLAY TO WIN’. She’s the one who cannot wait for the kids’ races to end so that it’s the parents’ turn. Woe be to her if she’s saddled with a when-will-this–be-over dad or even a photo-fanatic dad who doesn’t want to partner her. But she’s a sport right? She doesn’t give up. So she’ll look around asking everyone with a smile you cannot resist .. “will you be my partner,” till she strikes gold. If you partner her make sure you have running shoes on for Boy! can she run!

A confession…
I’d put myself in the eager-beaver mum class.. well I have to be that since The Husband is the quintessential when-will-this-be-over dad. Oh the arguments we have! It’s good for the kids, though. We do manage to even each other out a bit and strike a balance. What kind are you?

It’s Day 6 at the Write Tribe Festival of Words. The prompt for today is ‘People’. For some great takes from Write Tribers go here.

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Who’s the crafty one?

Hrit and Naisha had a collage making competition at school. The topic was ‘My Family’. It seemed pretty easy since they had to simply assemble it in school.

Naisha being the artistic one, had a hundred ideas and finally settled on a heart shaped collage… how predictable is that! Hrit, meanwhile, doesn’t have a single crafty bone in his body. He didn’t want to make it at all. After much cajoling he agreed.

And he won! The first prize.



This is what he did

Naisha, changed her mind on the final day and decided the heart shape was too much trouble, didn’t put the tags either which we’d brainstormed and written out so diligently. She also ‘saved’ the heart and smiley stickers ‘to play at home’. She’s incorrigible, this daughter of mine.

When oh when will the kids stop surprising me?

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When did they grow up?

When I got home late evening the other day……. the bed covers had been folded and put away
…. the sheets and pillows were laid out
…. the mosquito repellant had been switched on
…. the AC was switched on
…. the kids had changed into their nightsuits
and finally two pillows and a book were kept out ‘specially’ for me .. where I could sit and read.

… a surprise planned by the kids. Surprised I sure was … theyre growing up.

That’s Hrit demonstrating how I’m supposed to sit and read
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Notes from a perplexed mum

How should I teach the kids to ….

… fit in but stand out

… be disciplined but break the rules

… speak their mind but not be rude

… be smart but not be cheeky

… be active but not naughty

… help people in trouble but stay away from trouble

… be generous but watch their interest

… make new friends but not talk to strangers

… grow up fast but retain their innocence

… be independent but never stop needing me

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The family that sleeps together…

…… doesn’t get much sleep at all
Pic Courtesy Google

In a few months the kids’ll turn 6. That’s a huge landmark considering they’ll ‘graduate’ to primary school. And so I thought it was high time they slept in their own beds. Unfortunately three and three fourths of our family thinks it’s a bad idea.

First, half the family – the kids (TK) are convinced they can happily snuggle up with papa and mama till they’re hundred.

Then, there’s The Husband (TH) who misses the kids sorely at night and doesn’t think much of my plans. Each night he tells me “bring them over to our room”.

Then there’s 3/4 me – the mushy mum (MM). Oh how she loves having the kids sleep near her, their little hands on hers, their gentle breath on her cheek, cuddling warmly, sharing a blanket… sigh she misses them so.

And finally 1/4 me – the sane mum (SM). She’s the only one on whose shoulders rests the responsibility of making it happen.

It really hasn’t been easy for SM with TKs staring at her with tear-filled eyes and TH watching her with a look more suited to Dashrath when Kakeyi banished Ram to the forest while MM has simply been wringing her hands in worry. But SM stands firm in her resolve.

A family conversation on the issue would go somewhat like this…

SM: H, N come, see I’ve put a special bed for you. You’ll be sleeping in your own room from now on.
TK (not quite ready for it, wrapping their tiny arms around my waist): But we’ll be scared mama.
MM: Okay fine we’ll try later.
SM (Quashing MM’s outburst sternly): I’m just across the hall. Call me if you get scared and I’ll be right there with you.
TK (in tears): But we like to cuddle with you when we sleep.
MM (in tears): Baby I like to cuddle you too.
SM : You can cuddle your favourite teddy.
TH (With studied casualness): Think of the extra cost – two ACs and two fans running through the night.
SM: Never mind.
MM (Pretending to be the voice of practicality): Think of the extra work – two covers to be removed each night, two beds to be cleared up and two beds to be made each morning.
SM: I’ll do it.
TK (wailing): We’re still babies, we’re not even six.
TH: They really are too small.
MM (Hating SM and desperately, hoping for a change of heart): Oh yes you’re too small.. my babies.
SM : You’re almost six.. that’s really grown up.

SM prevailed. The kids were bribed with the promise of a bunk bed on their birthday while the voice of The Husband and The Mushy Mum were ruthlessly crushed.

Since Sunday, the kids have been sleeping in their room. While N sleeps like the proverbial baby, H has come to wake up Mama each night with a “Can you please sleep with me”. Each night she has gone to put him back to sleep and have then come back to her bed. That, of course, has wrecked havoc on her schedule heavy with daily chores and the rather tough gym routine.

Four days later… SM is wavering, specially at night when MM takes over. The memory of those tear-filled eyes refuses to leave her alone. She lies awake as she wonders – will they fall out of bed? Will they get scared? Will I hear them if they call? She goes to check on the kids countless times during the night for at heart the SM is an MM. Or maybe SM doesn’t exist at all….. maybe she’s simply ….. a mum.

NO … she’s there, she has to be there, she’s only too real, she’s the voice of reason. She’s the one who will help the kids through tough times, when the MM becomes incapable of clear thought driving herself crazy with worry.

Oh the kids need them both. Love tempered with reason.

And so God bless SM with perseverance. She needs support, desperately. Raise your hands if you’re with her, people.

That’s how the kids spread themselves over three mattresses. Now consider squeezing two adults in there.
Still wondering whether you should raise your hand in SM’s support?
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