First day at Playschool : excerpts from an anxious Mom's diary.

Every Mom dreads that day. The day their little one goes to a daycare for the very first time.

Mine was no different; given that anxiety is my middle name. Thanks to my parents who abundantly bestowed the most exquisite gene pool to me, anxiety and tension being the two most prominent traits. 

My baby was at home from birth until he turned 20 months old, and I was at a stone’s throw at office visiting him at regular intervals and a housemaid managing him when I was not there. My mother visited a couple of times too, and things were going smoothly until one day, my maid got enlightened from the other world. She decided to play hard-to-get, increased her wages, and started being irregular for lame reasons. This was unacceptable and we started thinking seriously and browsing aggressively for good daycare centers.

And we landed one.

So my next step was… to get anxious. I started chatting with all Moms I have on my chat list asking them what was the ripe age to go to playgroup. Given that my kiddo gets hyperactive around other kids his age was a sure sign that a forty year old housemaid is no company to him. Many of my friends were happy to help me get myself together over an endless list of queries and worries I had. I got a sense of reassurance from them. I visited the daycare center a few times, and shed some tears while talking to the teacher in charge because I am an emotional mess most of the time i.e whenever I am not sleeping.  I ensured the daycare was certified, made careful observation about cleanliness, the children to teacher ratio and most importantly how engaged the kids appeared whenever I visited. I noticed that none of the kids including babies were crying and they all were engrossed in something or the other, as the big bright room had enough toys and stationery to keep tiny tots busy for a long time. This boosted my confidence a little bit. I must tell you, I’d been at the crossroads of life many times and in do-or-die situations (read examinations) too, but I've never been through such emotional stress, ever.

As weekend falls on Thursday and Friday in this part of the world, Saturday was the first day of the week. Then came Saturday, February 23^rd 2013.

Before that, I will let you guys peep into how February 22^nd went. Complete disillusionment. Yes we went out to buy lunch and snack boxes for him, during which I was still in a state of complete delusion. I did not sleep that night. My mind wandered around his playschool and I pictured him in the worst scenarios. I was not helping myself in the belief and faith part of prayer. Soon my alarm went off, and I realized that nights are very short when you are preoccupied. Nights are also short on examination eves, but that is a different story.

So on that day, I woke up at 5:00 a.m, that’s when my working day starts. The kitchen schedules were completely reoriented to pack his lunch, thus pushing our breakfast into a second priority. Diapers, dresses, napkins, lunch, snacks, milk, water – Check. Around 9:00 am, we left from home. My hands were sweating like crazy, while my son was humming away a random tune.

Soon we reached the nursery and were welcomed by smiling teachers and a lot of kids of different age groups and nationalities. The bigger kids had assembled there before going to their classrooms. As they left the play area seemed bigger and brighter with all sorts of toys and little rides. Four other toddlers almost the same age as him stood there playing among themselves. When he saw the big bright room, he struggled himself out of my hands and walked towards the toys. He got into one of the rides, and turned and smiled at me. I stood there for a while, and he occasionally turned to look at me, not knowing that I will not be there for long. I fought back tears. Seeing my constipated expression, my husband intervened and asked.. “So you think the parents of those kids dumped them here because they don’t like them?”

“No..”

“Then what? See how happy he is now. He may miss us, but this is where he wants to be during the day. Not at home watching those useless serials with the housemaid”.

Okay that went above my head, and the teacher consoled me that he will be fine and that they were all there for him. She also told me not to stay there looking at him too long.

I slowly left, with a heavy heart, wiping tears. I also called up the nursery like ten times and they said that he was not crying. However the nursery being a new place for him, he did not sleep on the first day.

I picked him up in the evening, and he was little tired but still smiling. He came home and caught up on sleep.

The days after, for around two weeks, he cried when we dropped him, and clung to me refusing to go. This literally broke my heart and I cried excessively on my way back to office every single day. I wailed, hyperventilated and became the loudest drama queen ever in the history of motherhood. Not to mention the levels of productivity at office on those days.

It is his fourth week at playschool now, and my prayers have been answered. Since last week he looks forward to go ,  has made new friends, sleeps and eats on time and is happy by the grace of the Almighty. The day has come that I can wave to a happy face when I drop him in the morning. The day I was praying so badly for, is finally here. That smile, and the way he waves at me is directly proportional to my sanity and presence of mind that day.

This is for all the mothers, working or not, who dreads a nursery or a playgroup and cannot imagine sending their precious child to one. I assure you, from experience, kids always love to be around other kids than with us. 

Blog-anniversary and Contest !

March 2009. It was when the Tsunami of corporate world hit worldwide - Global Recession. People who lost their jobs, people who dint know they lost their job, people who are on the verge of losing their job were some of the main catastrophic categories that software people fell into generally. It was only two months into my wedded life, my husband was then an employee of the most controversial Indian software company of that time, and I had changed my job and location as well. It was a difficult time for me as the mind needed time and lot of pampering to come to terms with a life that had lot of first’s to offer.

One fine morning as I walked into my plush office I met a group of girls seriously in discussion right there at the reception area. Their expressions screamed panic. That was when I came to know that the guy we were reporting to had been fired. Not just him, twenty five others. It was happening. We were a group of new employees who were practically unassigned to any project of course due to lack of it. We were the ones who could be chucked out any moment of the day. The fear had actually set in.

Even though we were on ‘bench’, we still had our own workstations and computers to browse. I was mentally disturbed about the state of affairs and this led me to reading light and entertaining blogs. I loved reading and relating easily to the whole load of creativity that floated effortlessly in various blogs and increasingly grew jealous of them. I had a lot of things to write as well. Why don’t I start a blog of my own? I thought. This thought materialized itself and my first post was born on March 30, 2009. Since then there was no turning back.

It has been four years and no one ever told me to go home, people only tell me to ‘keep blogging’! Is it not an achievement in itself? In June 2011, hours after my son was born, I was chosen for a fifth prize (Rs.10,000) on the topic ‘ The Real Beauty’, a contest conducted by Dove and IndiBlogger. That was probably my first and only prize but it still gives me a high like no other! I made it a point to update my space thrice or more every month and it was always welcomed with oodles of encouragement and criticisms in the form of comments, which always gave me the push to come back and write more.

I recall the days I made every effort to feature in the school and college magazines. My vocabulary was not great, ideas were not new, creativity lower than mediocre, but to see my name in print was the only motive I had in my life (despite the other motives my parents and teachers had for me).

When the blog was kick started, it was topped with consistent support from my parents, husband and sister. Altogether I can tell you, it was a success recipe, though it was the recession which was actually the driving force behind it.

So this is the month of celebration, of four years of existence on blogger. Now it is up to hubby dear to decide whether it is going to be Damas or Joy Alukkas :D

Cheers to all my fellow bloggers and some awesome people who have made it in my facebook and gtalk as well !  I am indebted to you and also jealous of your blog! ;-)

So as a token of appreciation I am conducting a small contest right here.
Suggest a caption for the below picture, in less than 15 words, which by the way is a click by my hubby. I am giving away a prize too, which is a gift voucher worth Rs.200 for your next Flipkart purchase.

The prize is sponsored by Coupondunia, which also has discounts on Flipkart coupons, Dominos coupons, Snapdeal coupons and others. It is a boon for online shoppers. Visit their site to know more so you may save better on your next online purchase.

But first things first. Send in your captions in less than 15 words to anitajeyan@gmail.com with the subject #Caption. Or you may even put your captions on the comments section of this post. I am not going to be the judge, don’t worry, there are better and well-read people who have agreed to shortlist the winner! Send in your entries, please participate, multiple entries allowed !

Contest Closes on March 31st. 

The Summer Crown.

Middle East summer prevailed at its peak, and the timing was painfully wrong to land on international grounds for the first time in my life.  They said it was 46 degrees, but for me it felt like boiling point. The sun rays seemed to burn the skin and the eyes.  I held her close to myself knowing that people were staring. I held her gently.  I could hardly see much ahead of me, just shadows as they came nearer and fleeting assumptions of fast approaching people.

I held on to her expecting her to elevate me from the core of the volcano I was in, literally. Cars drove past like lightning and the friction the tires made with the road was deafening. I could almost see sparks being emitted. My chiffon dupatta was at the verge of catching fire. Hot winds blew against my face giving it a steam sauna. There was steam in my hair.

 I missed home.

I continued to walk. More and more people stared at me. Some of them whispered to each other and laughed. I knew they were amused that I was holding on to her like she was the Bible. I knew I was fiercely possessive about her and it showed in my eyes. I noticed the laughter aimed at me, but I vowed never to belittle my prized possession and vowed to carry her wherever I went.

Days passed and it took me immense strength to adapt to the new place. She was my only saving grace. I became famous for carrying her around all the time. To most people, I was a complete weirdo.

I braved a lot of criticisms and still carry her around. She shadowed me when I wanted her to. I did not even ask her for it. She canopied me giving me the calm, and the exclusive darkness I longed for. She hovered around me like a guardian angel.

She is my POPY umbrella. 

Why Talaash wasn't convincing enough ;-)

It is true that with the kind of technology we have, it has become challenging to make reasonably believable movies. Like for instance the scripts of the yesteryear in which the hero gets lost in the jungle when he goes in search of the abducted heroine. It cant happen today, as he has google maps. Also, today there are no jungles but that’s a totally different story. Again, we have movies whose climax shows the heroine waiting endlessly at the railway station for the hero but he doesn't turn up.  And then she meets her destiny on that railway track, after which the hero appears because he got delayed in traffic. But it is too late. The era before mobile phone will justify this movie. So now that almost everything is possible by that smartfone in my pocket, it has become more tedious to actually make the viewer believe the story in the first place.  

I am assuming anybody who is reading this watched Talaash already. If not, there are spoilers ahead. Oh who am I kidding? The crux of Talaash was a slogan on twitter ever since the movie was released.

So Talaash revolves around the mysterious accident of a movie star. The car loses control on a perfectly empty road and somersaults its way, breaking barricades in between, and dips into the sea nearby. This is the very first scene of Talaash. The case was investigated by Aamir Khan the cop, and finally the same accident happens to him after his vain attempts to unravel the case. Thus the maze of unending questions behind the actor’s accident unravels itself and everyone goes home.

We could not watch this movie at a theatre, because such intense, edge-of-the-seat thrillers are best watched without a baby around. So last weekend we downloaded this and hubby and me watched at home, when the toddler chose to sleep after a long day of activities.

The next day, I asked him “How did you like Talaash? Nice no?”

He: “When was this movie shot? Long back? Was it shelved?”

“No why?”

He: “First scene … that movie star’s accident…”

“What about that ?”

He: “ I cant believe an actor of today’s times driving a car which doesn't have ABS on it”

K

Aiming for the stars !

Last weekend we sacrificed our TV time and unplanned trips to the mall to wait for the sales guy from Early Learning, to come home for the demonstration of one of their products, a kids learning collection. As parents of toddlers, waiting for a guest is not about sitting on the sofa and staring at the door. It is about making the toddler wear a neat shirt on which there is no cheese or ketchup, cleaning up the living room, picking up socks, shoes, toys, cutlery, crockery and things I'd never seen before emerging from under the sofa. Soon the doorbell rang and a gentleman in his twenties walked in with a trolley bag.

I gestured him to take a seat making sure there were no knives on the seating area. He sat down and pulled out a chart  and then IT happened. He opened his mouth.

The initial talk he made for around twenty minutes was about the pace at which a baby’s brain develops and the number of nerves connected to it. Tenth grade biology class flashback. Then about how we have to aim high at a younger age to set ourselves at par with the cut throat competition. Teenage year’s parents advice flashback. Complete nostalgia. In between his intense science sessions he kept asking us, ‘Do you agree, Ma’am?’ Well who am I to question modern science. I nodded.  

After twenty minutes of brain frying session about the infant brain, he moved on to the next. He opened a book and started shooting a few questions at me.

“Ma’am, do you have a vacuum cleaner?”

Of course. Wait… is this guy coming from the health and sanitation department. Doubtfully, I replied.. ‘Yes’.

‘Okay when you use it, and your kid asks, Mama how does this work, what will you say?’

I slipped into the famous sober expression which I hadn't used since my school days. It was a nostalgic feeling, being asked a question and the embarrassment of not knowing the answer. The guy kept staring at my face, his expression changing rapidly from seriousness to sheer amusement. That my toddler had not started saying his own name was some sort of a consolation which was keeping me calm at that moment. I replied, ‘Hmm, I am not so sure’. Well even back in school I never admitted that I dint know the answer…I just said that I was absent in that class when she taught that, which led the teachers to assume that it was my first day at school.

Then this guy went on to say, that we need to hand him a glass of juice with straw, and allow him to sip it. When he does, the concept of vacuum cleaner which sucks the dirt can be explained. Voila ! I mean the idea of my toddler asking this question and me making a juice as soon as he asks, and then he spills it everywhere which actually makes me use the vacuum cleaner and demonstrate it right away.

Note, the hubby was spared all the reassurance hums and annoying questions all this while as he was happily checking out other books which the gentleman had brought. But this happiness did not last long.

‘Sir, do you know how many teeth a fish has?’

My face lit up. Yaay its not to me. By the way, if he doesn't answer, he may pass the question to me. I better be prepared with some solution.

‘Four’ hubby said confidently. The guy smiled and looked at me. ‘And you, Ma’am?’. Oh. Did he mean how many teeth I had? Well if you actually exclude the teeth which had root canal done on it, it may be pretty much the four front teeth. I said, ‘Four’.

The gentleman then opened a page of a book which had a close up picture of a fish which appeared to be singing an opera with its mouth wide open. “There are four teeth which are visible and two hundred others which we cannot see”. He said, mocking both of us with a wicked eye.

He dint leave us any time to recover from that disaster when the next question came. ‘Sir, do you know why rabbits have long ears?’

This was a tricky one. At this point, his mobile rang and he escaped gloriously from the human trap he set himself and me into. He walked off gesturing the guy to continue the intellectual torture he inflicted on me. Actually I never even noticed rabbits before. That they have long ears is information I got only from Bugs Bunny. I said, ‘Not much idea about that’.

He then explained why they have long ears. It was something about hearing and escaping from enemies, I vaguely remember. It totally passed over my head as I was thinking how to trap the hubby back into this.

“Do you know why giraffes have long necks?’

I mean, you’ve got to answer atleast one, right. You don’t have to, but that the courteous way to behave to a guest. I said, ‘To be able to reach the leaves on trees’. He said, ‘Right’. And he continued,’ there is another reason Ma’am, that giraffes have long necks to view a wider ground and save themselves from wild animals.

Oh come on. For the one answer I knew, he says another befitting one. The unsuccessful interviews I gave when I graduated weren't as embarrassing as this.

Thankfully the guy realized that if he kept asking questions to me, he will never finish this assignment, as each question took me time to look at the ceiling and wish if there was a google search engine up there to save me from this cumbersome trial. 

He went on to display all the books and their astronomical prices too!  The books were actually good. Well if he hadn't humiliated me by asking those questions I might actually have considered buying at least one of those on a trial basis.

I need to grow up a little bit, you know.

P.S My previous post below was the 150^th post on this blog. Thank you, everyone who read me J

Valentine's Day dinner date.

Even before the dawn broke on Valentine’s Day, I was already up on my bed watching over an ailing toddler, who, for the past few days had been suffering from stomach upset accompanied with fever and nose block. Of all the above illnesses, all mothers would agree that even if nose block sounded trivial, it is one of the worst diseases babies suffer. It is also the worst because once it infects, it ensures sleepless nights for a couple of days and disturbed sleep the days after. So on this day, I spent the night sleepless, because the nose block tortured the child in such ways that he was unable to sleep, despite his earnest efforts.

That morning, as I walked to the kitchen, eyes half closed, I heard my mobile subtly playing notification tone. Completely oblivious about the date and time, I picked up my phone only to find facebook flooded with Valentine’s Day wishes shared by random people to everyone on their friend list. Others posted pictures of the expensive surprises their spouses gifted them. Whatsapp also had its fair share of broadcasts, an option which thankfully or not, helps a lot of people convey shallow wishes on every other occasion to countless people on their lists. I went back to my routine, stuck in hangover and drowsiness.

It was a long day, and not a moment did the child move away from my arms. By evening, a call came from office asking hubby to report for a meeting to discuss a critical issue. Soon after he left with his laptop, I sat helplessly on the couch, the baby on my lap, who was finally trying to sleep after a long day of crankiness and low appetite; I switched on the TV and flipped channels, all of them playing mushy movies and songs, all of which had the Valentine theme plastered on them. I still did not miss anything, as none of my Valentines days in all my life was anything movie like. However I was a bit disappointed ,as hubby was at office, and he would have his dinner along with the other guys in the team who will probably burn the midnight oil with him.

 At around 10 pm, I slowly picked up the baby and lay him on the bed and sat next to him. There was nothing to eat. A few cupcakes were in the fridge but they dint excite me. An hour later, as I slowly drifted off to sleep, I heard the door bell, and opened the door to find hubby back, as his work was done for the day.

 That’s when he asked THE question… ‘So what is there for dinner?’

 I was taken aback. ‘I thought you guys were eating out’.

“Today? No.”

“Okay then I will make something for you, come” I said gesturing him to the kitchen.

“Whats there to eat?’ he asked, opening the fridge to find absolutely nothing in it.

“I will prepare ghee roasts for you, there is batter enough for three’ I said.

“What will we eat WITH the dosas?’

As the toddler is a light sleeper, there was no question of using the mixer to prepare the chutney.

“There is a leftover fried fish from lunch” I replied gloomily.

He sat on the kitchen chair. The tawa was greased and the dosas were prepared one by one, and he sat on the kitchen chair munching them while the fish was reheated in the microwave. In between, I also took my share of the dosas from his plate. Soon the batter was over, and the plate of three dosas and one fried fish was wiped clean.

 “Happy Valentines Day” I said.

‘Same to you” he mumbled, smiling at the same time.

“The guys at office went out for dinner. I dint go with them”. He added. 

It was indeed, a special day.