Tag: Sports Day

Sports day and a regret

Sports day and a regret

Last week the twins’ had
their Sports Day and H won a bronze in the class race. Instead of celebrating, my first reaction was to look out for N and her reaction. The thing is, N is the sporty one.
She’s the one who comes home with a medal and is heartbroken if she
doesn’t get her moment on the victory stand.
H makes things worse by not being sensitive at all. I could almost
see him revelling in his medal and how that would make
matters worse for N. So when I went to pick them up I hugged them both, underplaying H’s
As it turned out, to his complete credit and my amazement, H was pretty nonchalant
about the whole thing and didn’t blow his trumpet one bit. Very surprising indeed!
What surprised me even more
was N’s reaction. She was a little upset I could tell, but she kept a smile
firmly on her face and was over it soon enough. It might have to do with
the fact that she was part of the
gymnastic display and so didn’t mind not winning. It might have to do with her recent
dance performance where she’d taken centre-stage already.
It brought home the importance of helping kids find their niche – something they’re good at – academics or a sport, a dance
form or a musical instrument. It does wonders for their self-esteem and allows them to
handle failure better. That’s what seemed to have worked for N.
Maybe I’m over analyzing this and the
kids are just growing up. 
Whatever it is, I was a
relieved mum that day. I do have a regret though – I wish I’d had that one moment of unadulterated happiness
and of praise for H – it was the first time he had won at sports
since when he was a toddler.

That’ll remain with me a long time.
It’s good for the kids though: to learn to look beyond themselves – to be empathetic as also to be happy for a sibling or a friend.
If you have more than one child tell me how you handle it when one child does really well and the other doesn’t? How do you praise one child while comforting the other?
People on the playground

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.

Blockbuster Weekend

Blockbuster Weekend

What a weekend this has been and N has been the undisputed leading lady of the week. We had some high octane sports, lots of dance, some drama and a bit of action thrown in too.

On Friday the kids had their Sports Day 
The Husband excused himself, citing “unavoidable official work” (Lest the quotes don’t convey my disbelief, let me say it out “I didn’t believe him”). He’s a heartless man to leave me alone to witness two dozen races all on my own. After finding a place in the first row (some consolation) and trying fruitlessly to strike up a conversation with the two ladies (also alone) on either side I opened my BlackBerry and settled down for the wait. One of the women had brought along a book and I thought that was a great idea. I idly clicked some pics of the empty victory stand and the grounds, thinking that was all what I would take home.

There couldn’t have been a day more perfect… clear, breezy and cool

The introductory walk started and H passed by me looking exactly over my head waving to God knows who. Then N came along and spotted me right away. She waved so hard and blew so many kisses that the commentator remarked on it. Muah.. to expressive daughters.

And then she went and won a medal.. yay!! It would not have been a big deal if it hadn’t been N. She has been longing for one for the longest time. It was truly a ‘dream come true’ moment for her. Each Sports Day I handle a deluge of tears so I was just glad she was the one who got it. While H, doesn’t normally bother he was a trifle put out with all the attention N was getting.

Still can’t quite believe it

That’s the trouble with having twins. However, to his credit, he handled it pretty well. He promptly cooked up an imaginary injury (on his hand) because of which he couldn’t win!

Saturday morning was the kanjak and N was all thrilled with the morning partying till I burst her bubble a bit with my lecturing. Mums need to do that sometimes.

Saturday evening it was dandiya time, N’s forte through and through. The dressing up and the dancing… what more can a girl ask for? Take a look..

Sunday morning it was Dussehra and the kids made a rangoli thanks to Shruti’s help from Artsy Craftsy Mum. Of course she’d promised it would take 15 minutes flat but they spent much more time – drawing, wiping, bickering, fighting – it took them all morning. A case of two-many-cooks!

Sunday evening we enrolled N for Bharatnatyam class 
Although I was a bit apprehensive about putting her in but I completely loved the atmosphere – the puja before the enrollment, the Krishna bhajan that won over N instantly – the Indianness of it all was very very heart warming. Such a sweet contrast to the Bollywood dancing I see everywhere. I need to clarify though, that I have nothing against Bollywood dancing, moreso since I’m no good at any dancing at all! But this was just different. I do hope N takes to it and keeps at it.

And finally to end the day ..
H punched N on the mouth and she came home all bloodied. The cuts inside her lip and cheek seemed too deep so we rushed to the hospital where mercifully she didn’t need stitches. On antibiotics for the week.


So how was your weekend?

Some good, some bad!

Some good, some bad!

This week’s been nothing if not eventful. Pretty unbelievable things have happened — at least one of them was super nice and the other super sad.

The nice one first (for no reason other than it happened first). The Husband took leave!!! Just like that!!! And if you knew him at all you’d find those exclamation marks justified. This my friends is as earth shattering as it can get. In the one and half decade of knowing him he’s never done this… to take leave to be home… unbelievable.

The thing is he only recently found out that casual leaves lapse at the end of the year. Don’t be surprised, that’s symptom no 5 of a crazed workaholic. Anyway so he took leave and we went for a film, just the two of us… another not-done-in-over-7years-thing. The film, English Vinglish was wonderful, but of course you all know that by now. A must watch.

Just as I was gushing at how wonderful it was and how we should do this more often, The Husband promptly clarified that this new film-watching-him was not a permanent phenomenon, “Next film, next year,” he pronounced. Talk about enthusiasm (or lack of it)!

Now for the bad – I missed the children’s Sports Day! Just missed it. I’m still wondering how I could let that happen. There was no information, other than on the school website which I haven’t been able to access since the start of the session despite repeated meeting with their IT department. I’ve been depending on a friend to forward all notices to me and .. well … she didn’t. By the time she found out and called me, feeling very very guilty, it was too late.

Hrit was down with an upset stomach so he’d have missed it anyway but Naisha was there and The Husband could have gone to cheer her. I did drag a recovering Hrit and reached the school but it was all over. :-(((( . I’ve been feeling bad bad bad.

What was worse, Naisha came back and said, “Many children who didn’t win the race cried, mama, but I didn’t yet teacher thought I was crying.” Which, of course, means she did cry. I so wish I’d been there. Worse still, she uttered not a word of reproach. She makes it a point to look out for us at school events. However, when The Husband called to ask her how it went.. she said, “I didn’t win the race and Hrit wasn’t well so mama couldn’t come.” How sensible is that!

I’ll wrap up with a word of apology for peppering the post with exclamation marks. Not that I have anything against them, it’s just that they’re misused and overused and misused some more so much that I’ve had more than enough of them. However, bear with me just this time.

On the field and then onstage

On the field and then onstage

It was Sports Day…
.. and Naisha woke up bright and early all on her own at about 5.30. “I woke up because I have to get a medal today,” she announced. That scared me a bit but The Husband cheered her along. Sports is not really her thing. I remembered last year when she’d cried and cried because she couldn’t win a medal. We’d come home and made medals for the entire bunch of kids in the society. This time round I had prepared her a bit. “Run as fast as you can” I told her “and that will be good enough”.

She did run fast.. she reached the half way mark first where they had to wear caps. And there lay her undoing for she took ages trying to put it on perfectly and missed the medal by a whisker. To her credit she gave me the sweetest, bravest, fakest smile ever as she was being led away by her teacher but dissolved into tears when we went to pick her up.

The son is another story.. he strolled in among the last few stragglers, picking up a ‘turnip’ along the way, then walked away pretty nonchalantly least bothered about the outcome. That’s the twins for you.. never the same.

There’s Hrit walking away hands behind his back

I just wish the sports day were more interesting… I mean how many similar races can one sit through considering most parents would be waiting for just one? A drill or a march past would be a good break or maybe the races could be spiced up a bit.

In school we had real fun ones like the kids walking in their father’s shoes, or dressing themselves up for school or planting a tree.. there’s surely more to racing than running, picking up stuff and running again. Of course that’s just a thought .. the kids are small and it’s tough to to get them to do anything, I know that only too well. Maybe my memories are of later years. Must ask papa and ma what it was like.

The kids had fun for sure. The parents, however, seemed to need a lesson or two in good behaviour. It was crazy how they crowded the tracks, waved and distracted the kids, tried to talk to them and take them away early.. this despite desperate pleas by the authorities to leave the kids alone. It was most embarrassing. Talk about role models!

Then along came Annual Day
I loved the concept of the concert. A little boy roams the world in search of a hidden treasure. He meets people from various countries, learning about their cultures, dances and songs, but finds no treasure only to realise that the people of the world are the real treasure. Nice, isn’t it?

Hrit was a in a Russian dance while Naisha was in a full-on Punjabi Daler Mehendi number. Hrit is a reluctant dancer and being paired off with a girl only made it harder in his current I-hate-girls phase.

He refused to wear makeup covering his mouth and running around the house shouting ‘No No No”. Then he insisted if he wore makeup, Naisha would have to wear a moustache. So much for equality.

For Naisha of course it was a dream come true. She was getting to dance, on a stage, wear an armful of bangles, huge earrings, a long parandi and makeup too.. what more could a girl want? The makeup was fun, the only catch being she wanted to run to the dressing table after each dab….. lipstick.. run to the mirror, blusher run to the mirror, eye makeup run to the mirror,… tiring I tell you. The parandi gave me plenty of grief as I tried to fix it onto Naisha’s tiny ponytail. Finally it was all done and I left them to play while I went to dress up.

I’d barely turned my back when I heard a yell from Naisha.. I should have guessed it.. the parandi was too much of a bait for Hrit and obviously he’d pulled it off! With an eye on the clock I rushed to fix it again. Hrit was so miffed at the dressing down he just refused to go. Calling upon the gods to grant me patience I sat down to reason with him pretending I had all the time in the world. Finally I convinced him to come along with us to drop Naisha giving him the option of making up his mind along the way. Thank the Good Lord he agreed.

ALL DRESSED UP: A still grumpy Hrit and a cheery Naisha in our lobby

I rushed to make myself decent.. which essentially meant wiping off sweat and throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt (Really, what would I do without those) and we were off.

Then the autowallah decided he needed petrol and the petrol pump happened to be in a diametrically opposite direction (thereby strengthening my resolve — must must learn to drive). Just as I giving the driver some solid khari khoti “I think I will go for the annual day,” announced Hrit. To the autowallah’s total surprise I miraculously transformed into the nice lady that I’d originally seemed to be. Kids, I tell you, can twist your moods around like nobody can. So it was that we reached school in pretty good humour.

Hrit danced well enough but with his head bent down. I love it when my naughty restless son goes all shy. I gave him a tight mental hug. Naisha was in her element. She danced like a dream – she was the best in the group – of course from a totally biased mum’s point of view. I found myself on my feet blowing kisses.

They came away completely thrilled and excited.. even Hrit who went so reluctantly. FIL, MIL, The Husband, kids and I … dinner at Kareem’s followed by ice cream… can a day be more perfect?

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