How we went for yoga but ended up tramping instead

The yoga playgroup was supposed to have a session yesterday at Fort Canning Park. Myself, who was incharge of venues, got it wrong. The email had said Stamford Green.

Its funny how cognitive dissonance works, because I read the venue as Fort Canning Green, which is the only green I knew of, where we went a couple of years ago for Ballet under the stars.

I didnt really want to roust myself out of bed early in the morning, especially since we had been out to the Thai Ramayana (as Sophia called it) at the Esplanade yesterday. I told the girls in the Thai Ramayana, Rama does not kill Ravana, but Ravana asks for forgiveness. I guess this is probably wrong, as it was told to me by one of the guides in the Bangkok Palace. But Sophia likes this pacifist version of Ramayana and everytime I tell her the story (The Indian version), she asks me to tell her again the thai version (from the beginning and not just with the change in the ending. )

Husband, who is keen on the yoga, rousted us all out, pretty bossily and we were in the taxi on our way. We landed at Fort Canning Green, where there was no yoga group, just a lone man singing at the top of his voice at an echo tunnel, a group of taichi performers and some adults doing serious meditation.

While husband used his marathon skills to run around the park in five minutes, the girls and I walked around the battle box while Anjali asked me questions like why people die in wars (we had also been to the cenotaph the day before on our way back from the esplanade)

Husband couldnt find the yoga group. It was a nice day, so we decided to walk in the park instead, exclaiming at the outdoor statues (which in retrospect were probably not made of paper mache), looking at ant trails and termite trails (and getting bitten by ants and mosquitoes in the process), picking fern leaves and some frangipani flowers for putting on a collage (Sophia piled them all on top of an art block the minute she got home and the girls spent a happy hour making a zoo with their blocks and feeding fern leaves to the animals. I have encouraged them to make a proper collage with glue. We may get to it this evening), sliding down the grassy slope (atleast the yoga mat was useful), sliding down stair railings (what a pity that stair railings these days are so safe and children cannot slide down them) and dipping our feet in a fountain.

We got home at around 11am for a nice lunch of mamaliga and bean sauce. I am trying recipes since we are hosting the walk in November and making sure that husband proofs them and I proof them. As a result, we will be having a repeat of dishes selcted for the brunch and potential dishes on the waiting list over the next two weeks. Hence mamaliga and bean sauce.

A nice morning thanks to the yoga playgroup that didnt happen

Tantrums and conversations

I guess it was because Sophia didnt sleep in the afternoon. Husband wanted to go to buy smoked salmon and ofcourse the girls too wanted to go along, not for the salmon, but for the Tom n Stefanie. We have been having Tom n Stefanie issues with the kids ever since they moved the Thomas trains to the ground level, which, I guess was precisely their point.

As the queue at Shop n save was really long, husband suggested that I bring the girls to Tom n Stefanie which he queued for the cashier.

I brought the girls up

"Ok girls, when daddy comes up, you have to finish your play and go home. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal." Said Anjalil

"Deal" Said Sophia.

Husband came in around ten minutes.

"Let's go", I said.

"No...", began Anjali.

"You made a deal", I reminded her

"Oh, yes, I made a deal", and she cheerfully skipped away from the shop.

Sophia on the other hand, sat in front of a magnetic board "I want to do this...." she bagan

"Daddy is here, lets go", I said

And there began the hugest tantrum of Sophia's career.

She began too cry, and struggles when husband picked her, and struggled when I picked her, and knocked a bunch of toys off the shelfs (luckily they were made of cardboard). I stopped, waved off the attendant and made her pick them up (more tantrums)

"You are going to go into timeout when we get home", i said

More tantrum

We tried to catch a cab home but were overwhelmed by the number of taxis at the stand. So we caught a bus home instead.  She cried in the bus because she wanted a different seat. And she cried downstairs because the buburusa wouldnt move fast enough.

She cried in the lift because Anjali pressed the lift button (this she cries for regardless of the current tantrum state)

Then we opened the door and she rubbed her face with all the tears and snot on the back of my dress (yuck!) and said, quite steadily

"Mummy, I stopped cying. I dont want to go into time out"

Give me some credit, i didnt laugh.

I took her to the bedroom, gave her a glass of water and asked her to calm herself down before coming to the living room.

"Mummy, Is Sophia in time out?" Asked Anjali

"I am not in Time Out!", began Sophia, lips trembling and tears forming, but I managed to take Anjali out before making any judgements.

We were working on reading. I found a book a few days ago called how to teach your child to read in 100 easy lessons and I am trying it out on Anjali. So far, we are covering ground that she knows in terms of letter pronunciation, but new ground in terms of sounds. So we are making it a point to spend a few miniutes a day on the  book.

SOphia marched in, eyes dry, face solemn, to sit on my lap. She joined in some of the sounds activities. It was in my interest to take her to bed soon, so thats what I did, right after reading.

After the girls were in the bedroom and I was washing up, I caught snatches of conversations.

Sophia: "Kishna is small"

Anjali: No. Krishna is tall.

Sophia: No Andhali, Kishna is not tall, Ksihna is a baby, so he is small

Anjali: Sophia, is Vishnu tall?

Sophia: Yes

Anjali: Is Rama tall?

Sophia: Yes

Anjali: If Vishnu is tall and Rama is tall, then Krishna must be tall. because Krishna is an avatar of Vishnu and Rama is alsos an avatar of Vishnu.

I came out of the bathroom

Me: Do we girls know the story of how Vishnu found that he was actually small? I can tell it to you.

I was taking the opportunity to turn out the lights.

Sophia: Mummy, Kishna is an avathayam of Vishnu you know. Yaama is also an avathayam of Vishnu.

I told them the story of Shiva and the column of fire.

Me: And Shiva was angry with Brahma because Brahma lied

Anjali: Gods should not lie right?

Me: Right

Sophia: But people can lie right?

Anjali: No. People should not lie also

Sophia: No Andhali. People can lie.

Anjali: No Sophia, people cannot lie, because people are god.

Sophia: I am not god!

Anjali: Yes, you are god. You are god, I am god, everyone is god!

Sophia: I am not god. Mummy, I am not god!

Anjali: God is inside you so you are god and so you cannot lie

Sophia: I am not god!

Anjali: Mummy, tell Sophia that she is god!

Me (trying hard to be diplomatic and not laugh): Sophia is not god but she can be god because god is inside her. But first she must stop throwing the mother of all tantrums

Silence

Sophia: Mummy Mummy... I thyew a tantyum because...

Me: because...

Sophia: Because Andhali was playing with the yiting toy and i wanted to play, but daddy came

Anjali: i was not playing with that writing toy

Sophia: Yes you were. There was something yitten on it

Anjali: I didnt write anything on that toy, There was plastic on it

Sophia: Something was yitten on it

Anjali: Maybe the shop uncle or the shop aunty wrote something on it. I didnt write on it there was plastic.

playing with soap, fighitng, secrets

Yesterday evening, as an extended messy play, the girls and I worked with soap dough. The idea was simple, take soap, shred it up, add a bit of water, whisk it with an egg beater, play. The girls helped in the shredding of two small bard of hotel soap

The resultant concoction was a nice doughy soapy thing which we played with on the kitchen floor. After making some random shapes and squishing etc, and when it seemed that these kids were losing interest, i brought out some sand toys and asked them to mold the soap inside. This morning, ti had dried (almost) and we have two shaped soap, nicer than any hotel soap - the stegosauras is Sophia's and the sea shell is Anjali's.

The girls got dumped in the bath where they played. And then fought. Anjali wanted in on Sophia's tub and bullied Sophia out.

As I was telling Anjali about the negatives of bullying, and declaring that she would have to give up helping me to make cake because she bullied her sister, Sophia comes along and tugs my dress

"Mummy, I will tell u a secyet."

"What?"

"We will ask Anjali to help us make the cake, but we will not let her eat it ok?" (This said with the most impish face of a person coming to best conclusions)

Why are there cloths around the dining table

If you are wondering why there are cloths around the dining table, its because we visited the Jurong library on Sunday, where there was a Wayang stage. under the stage was a hidey hole and after I had chosen the books, I found husband and the girls there, in the hidey hole, reading. The playeum guys had put serial lights in the hidey hole so that there was enough reading lights.

So here is what the inside of our hidey hole looks like



Anjali stayed in this morning for cereal and story before going to school and she liked it.

There are a couple of engineering issues to be sorted out though.

1. The duppattas are cellotaped to the dining table, which is definitely a temporary solution and wont hold if Sophia yanks it twice. I have to look for a permanent one, probably involving sewing across with a strip of cloth.
2. Ventilation, though not as much of a problem as it would be if the cloth were thicker, is still an issue.
3. Lumination. We have our Christmas lights and we have asked husband to help us tape the lights under the table to complete the hidey hole.

I have always wanted to make card table houses, which are superbly imaginative, look beautiful on the outside, but very time consuming, but the one we have come up with, I think is not a bad idea at all.

The video of the Gita Jayanti progam

This is the video of the Gita Jayanti program that the children did on Saturday. Thanks to Lok uncle for the videography.

The kids did a grand job, I think. Simple and grand, given that they were mostly all under five years old, with the exception of Ayushi who is seven. Granted, there were a couple of goofups, especially at the end, with Sophia, who was not happy with the fact that i was on stage, and though all the children were told to sit in Vajrasan, other than those who practised diligently at home, the rest sat in their own sweet positions.

At the risk of sounding like the oscars, I have to thank a couple of people especially for this program. The first one being Uma aunty, who came down to help with the make up. Anjali's Krishna costume was put together so elegantly thank to her. Also my saree, which, without her timely help would have been a total mess.

And then the next thanks too all the moms who pulled things together, made sure there were spares of everything to go around, earrings, beads, hairpins, safety pins etc.

And finally to the children who were extremely enthusiastic about the event. The beauty of organizing a concert is this: that more than becoming a group of performers, they become a team of workers, working independently and together. They also become learners - their scope of learning extending to beyond what they are required to learn - Anjali and Sophia, for instance had memorized nearly the whole of the Purushasuktam verses and were singing it in the car with Ramya. They had learnt the verses just by listening to the music (I confess that i have not yet learnt them, just the line number and perhaps the starting lines).

It is also about forming friendships and playing during rehearsals. During the week, we would get together the children who lived in the Bukit Batok area and make them practice in the mid week. A beautiful friendship thus formed between Ramya, Anjali, Krisha and Sophia. They would rehearse for around teen minutes, play for ten minutes, rehearse for ten minutes and so on. While generally, I would say that playing wastes time which could be used during rehearsals, I have learnt that playing makes the children learn in a completely different sense. During the last rehearsal, just one day before the program, the four girls took all the temporary markers and made drawings all over my living room floor. IT was a superb masterpiece.

On one of the rehearsals in the center, Anjali, Ananya, Ramya and Sophia were having a discussion about having a sleepover. With a pang, I realized how fast these children were growing up. Anjali and Ananya, atleast a year ago, used to be so clingy to me and to Swati. And now they were having independent discussions about sleepovers!

And I also learnt about how to rehearse with really small children. In the middle of a rehearsal, Sophia would go "Mummy, I am thysty! Give me water!"

i would ignore her, and carry on with the rest of the children. Instead of taking the hint (after all, she is two years old!), she would say, a little louder, "I want water mummy!"

ofcourse, this would distract the other children and my cue would be

"Shhhh!!"

And Sophia would say

"I want water mummy, Why are you mot giving me water!"

So before the concert, I put a pair of diapers on her and give her a drink before sending here on stage. It was, after all, extremely hot in the GIIS dressing room and stage.

The concert also brought out the Radhas and Krishnas in the children. Children take pretend play so much to heart and for them pretending something is somewhat like living the character. I remembered that about Sophia when she was going through the Dorothy phase and wanted "Happy birthday Dorothy" on her birthday cake.

The program made Radhas out of my girls, even at home.

The search is on

Yesterday, my biggest worry was what to cook for lunch the next day and the best things to play with the kids. Now a new decision is looming over us and we are finding it quite overwhelming.

I had never before appreciated fully the idea of primary school selection. We live next to Keming school and Keming it was going to be. Atleast, that is what we had expected and that is what we had told Anjali since she was like one year old. IT was nearly perfect an arrangement, take lift down, cross the road, enter school gate. Cant get easier than that.

And then we began to hear scary stories, parent volunteering, giving lunch coupons, neighbours losing ballot.

I took the girls to the school yesterday to speak to them about parent volunteering. Imagine my shock when all the volunteering places for the year 2014 were closed. I mean, the girl is not even in kindergarten and here I was thinking that I am  early and dont need to really volunteer and what do I get? A bunch of fellows who had overtaken me in signing up for volunteering to put their kids in Keming.

Uma aunty said that when Navin and Priyanka were going in, about 6 years or so ago, there was not even any ballotting. Imagine that! Its a crazy world.

We do have a number of other decent schools in the area, but they are atleast a little farther than keming. The question is what to do next? Its like a whole underland of primary school language that has opened up now, that was not there before.

In other news, Anjali has been invited by her ballet teacher to take the Royal Academy of dance exam for primary ballet. the exam is in March, but she will be taking classes twice a week until that. Every Monday and Thursday.

I didnt explain to Anjali what and exam was. I just told her that it is like a mini concert after which she can go to Ballet level 2. She likes mini concerts, so I guess she'll do fine.

Confessions of a Patient Husband and Father

 Swati sent this over yesterday and I really had to post it as a dedication to the man who has to turn fans in the right direction, turn off the lights, make the alarm snooze and push beds around every evening.

Not to forget cleaning the guinea pig cage.

Confessions of a Patient Husband and Father

Posted on September 23, 2011 by conscienceparenting

I read a blog the other day that a woman had written complaining about her "idiot" husband. Now, while I do enjoy teasing my husband, I find that writing about his shortcomings would be a little predictable and would make me fit the stereotype of the nagging housewife a little too well. Instead, I asked him about the things he has had to put up with from both me and our children since becoming a father. Enjoy.

1. Since becoming a father, my rank in regards to needs has fallen to just above the dog. It's alright with me because I hear that children eventually move out, which means I should move back up- providing my children don't have any grandchildren.
2. Since becoming a husband, I have realized that if the temperature in the house is not quite right, it is my job to fix it. The phrases, "Is it hot?" or "Honey, aren't you cold?" make me cringe as they are code for, "Get up and make me happy."
3. Since becoming a father and husband, I have learned that just because you pay for cable television does not in any way mean you get to pick what is on the TV. I am personally hoping that the Bravo network goes bankrupt because if they develop one more franchise of those Housewives, I am going to freakin' lose it.
4. Remember in all those classic television shows where the wife stays home to clean and cook so that the husband returns home to find a martini and steak waiting for him? Lies, all lies.
5. I have learned that my wife always needs more sleep than me. It doesn't matter how little I have gotten or how much she has gotten, she wins by default
6. My wife says that my opinion matters. What she doesn't say is that it only matters if it agrees with hers.
7. Nine times out of ten, the question, "Tell me what you really think," is a trap.
8. Since becoming a husband, I find it amazing how I spent many years dressing myself as a single man only to get married and be told that I had no clue as to how to do it. This is another place where marriage is clearly not equal, because if I told my wife that she didn't know how to dress, I would be laughed out of the house.
9. Apparently, there is no statute of limitations for how long a woman can use the whole "I gave birth" thing to get whatever she wants. I think this is crap; however, I realize by saying this I open myself up to possibility of being stoned to death by women everywhere.
10. My wife and I share chores. I get the disgusting ones and she gets the ones she wants.

All of this being said, I want to make it clear that I love my marriage and despite it looking as though my wife wears the pants in our relationship, our marriage is truly equal, and she is definitely not telling me to say this as she threatens me by withholding intimacy.

Astuteness and how to deal with it

This morning, I was working on the fire painting for Anjali's costume. I painted two A-4 sheets with fire. The idea was to do what Ami did for Mother's birthday last year and slip the fire over Anjali's Krishna dress.

Husband however felt that give the size of the auditorium and everything, this was not a very prudent approach and no one except the front row would be able to see the fire. So the updated idea is to paint the fire on a long white cloth and let Anjali wear it on her back like a backpack that hangs. This way, all the audience could see the fire when she turned.

When Anjali woke up, I had finished some of the painting, but had left the palette and brushes and water on the table. She immediately wanted to paint, but I made her pray first, lighting the lamp and incense and chanting a few shlokas before she painted and I fed her breakfast while she was painting.

"What is this supposed to be", I asked after the painting was done.

"Its supposed to be a painting", she replied

"Right. Is it supposed to be a painting of something, or it is abstract?"

"Its abstract"

"Ok. Does it symbolize something? Were you thinking about something while you were painting it?"

"I was thinking about the blue sky and green hills and the sun rising between them"

Ok.

I looked at the clock, close to 7.40am.

"Goodness, we are late, lets run around and put on your shoes"

"Mummy, you never rush when you are singing songs, but you always rush when you get me ready for school. why?"

That was a very astute question. And it picked on something I did wrong.

"You dont rush when you are praying to god", I mumbled, deflecting the question

"But why you can rush when you are getting me ready for school?"

"I shouldnt", I answered. "There are a couple of ways to get around this. Either we get up early, so that we have more time to dilly dally around the breakfast table, or we dilly dally a little less"

She considered.

"I think I would rather dilly dally a little less"

Nowadays, it is becoming more apparent to me that Anjali is growing up to be a person who has her own reasoining instincts and everything

Cornflous gloop and feelie goop

Its been a while since we did household items exploring with the girls. Given the last post that i wrote about Sophia having to catch up with whatever activity Anjali was doing, we thought it was necessary to tailor some activities for her, especially.

Today, she woke up with Anjali and after Anjali went to school, I had a good half an hour to spend with her. So I took out cornflour and water

"Are we doing an expeyiment mummy?", she asked enthusiastically

And we ended up with this



"I have geen over here!", she said.

"Cool", I said "Why do you have green? I didnt put any green paint inside"

"Its magic geen!" she said, with the air of someone who has discovered just why the earth goes around



She poured out a couple of spoons of the stuff into some plastic bowls and before leaving for work, I cooked the rest of the cornstarch into a thick goop.



This is what she was doing when I left for work

stuffed sock toys: Make it with recycled stuff thingies

Husband was saying that we used to have a lot more age appropriate activities for Anjali than we do for Sophia who just has to tag along the best she can to all the four year old activities. Here is an example of this. The huddle above represents two girls who are trying to make dolls, out of old socks. And here is what i mean by Sophia tagging along as best as she could. I picked a pair of torn socks for the dolls and Sophia picked up another sock. "Its too small mummy", she says, and argues and cries until i agree to her making dolls with both pairs. Here is what we used 1. Two pairs of socks 2. stuffing (old stained t-shirts, nappty clothes, torn pants etc) 3. glue/ thread, string etc. Anjali tried her hand at sticthing one doll closed 4. Buttons and embellishments. And this is what we got. While Anjali was sewing her doll closed (she still needs help with sewing, so i sat with her), Sophia, who is much better with glue than Anjali was at 2.5 years old, came up with this,. For Anjali, at 2.5 years, art was all about exploration. Even with all the gymboree classes, I was hardpressed to get an end product from her. And it was not until she was well past 3 years old that she came up with end products. But as I cut out two pink buttons from an old t-shirt that we were planning to rip for stuffing, Sophia picked up the buttons to use as eyes for her doll. She glues then and showed me. "Good", I said. "let me find you something for the nose" I was rummaging in the kitchen and she comes alongg with a pista shell. "This is the noses mummy!", she says. Here is Anjali's - stitched, tied and missing a mouth. Then they made another couple. So here's the family, complete with hair etc They were going to bed (i.e. drying) so that Sophia would leave them alone. Anyway, it was time to go to bed.

I just had to make the book

Mummy, I made up a song in my head. Can I sing it to you?

ok

"Balls are bouncing b B B

Balloons are bursting, bang bang bang

bubbles are bubbling b b b b b b b b b b

b is the sound of b"

I wrote it out as a book and asked Anjali to illustrate it. She sat next to me as I was writing, stroking Bingo's fur

"You must say author is Anjali Curic and illustrator is Anjali curic. And write cat in the hat. ok"

I hung the book from the wall where it joins other works of art on the museum.

Board games

Husband's gotten a bunch of underground board games - board games that no normal person hears of, but are rather fun to play. And nearly every evening, before bed and before story time (notice how the schedule of activities keep shifting up, leaving us with very little room for creative stuff- though we do get time, more on this later) we end up sitting together, husband as the dealer and what Anjali calls the "decision maker" and the two girls as players. I join in sometimes, quite often if the game is to my liking and can be played in under fifteen minutes, which, in many of the games is hardly the case.

To a girl who grew up thinking that board games are things like scrabble, chess and monopoly, the new bunch of eight or so board games are rather like an alien world - a very computer game like scenario (and a quick search shows spinoffs in baord games rather like computer games), albeit a (much) more healthy one.

My favorite by far (simply because the rules are easy enough for Anjali and Sophia to follow) is kids of Carcassone. I have played it a couple of times, once with husband and thhe kids and the second time with Anjali alone while Sophia sat a couple of feet away, alternately peering over my shoulder and asking us to play Castle panic with her.

Sophia gets into the board games mood only if the games are rather bloody and involve all manner of evil goblins and trolls (hence the penchant for playing castle panic).Yesterday, the girls were so involved in playing it (after Carcassone) that they didnt even ask for tv as I sneaked food (pasta with spinach, tomato sauce and cheese) into their mouths while they were playing.

At any point that Sophia starts to lose interest and runs around, husband would say things like "Sophia... you are a troll... while you are waiting, all these people are going to pass under your bridge. Are you going to let them?" And Sophia would get all excited and go "bleh bleh bleh bleh" and say things like "you must kill them! You must eat them! You must put ayows on them"

I guess this is the point when i should start to get worried.

Well, she cant quite read yet, but she know very well which are the archers and swordsmen and knights in the Castle panic game. And she knows them by color and when to exchange them with Anjali.

We usually dont play the games to completion. For castle panic, it is usually until the time we notice the kids' attention running out. Thats about 15 monsters or so down the road, something like half an hour of concentrated activity

Anjali on the phone

"Mummy, Ms Audrey didn't give me my notebook today"

"Why?"

"I dont know. Maybe it is a punishment."

"Why?"

"Because I was not paying attention in class and was talking"

"I see. Did she give the notebook to all the other children?"

"Yes"

"Only to you she didnt give?"

"No, to me and Mikaela and Tricia and Gwen"

"Right. So what can we do about that?"

"I'll give the phone to patti"

"Wait wait. i am not done with you yet"

"Yes"

"What shall we do about that?"

"Oh. I think if tomorrow I am good she will give the notebook back"

"She will?"

"I think so."

"You'll be good tomorrow?"

"Yes"

Fancy Nancy and the Shopping bags: A booky craft

We were reading Fancy Nancy- Every day is Earth day. The girls are rather environmental aware, I should say, mostly because of my reusing milk cartons and giving them junk instead of shiny new toys to play with and recycling husband's old shirts into wearables. But Nancy's decorated Save the Earth tote bag took the prize.

Sophia stopped halfway through her dinner (where we were reading the book) and insisted that we get her a bag to decorate. Anjali finished her dinner before going for her own bag. First Anjali tried sewing. But using her blunt, child safe needle through the thick tote was not very confortable, so she stuck to Sophia's method of using glue.

I drew the hearts on green paper and she cut them out. Then i hunted various old collage materials (odd stickers, a scrap of shiny paper from an old party popper, and a long strip of blue checkered cloth from my old nightie that was in the sewing box)

Sophia made me cut squares (cut big squares) and used two tonnes of glue to decorate her bag.

It would have been more interesting and earth friendly to use junk mail to decorate the bag, but I guess its not bad at all for a first attempt. And infact, it was Anjali's first attempt at self motivated independent collages (Oftentimes, I would have to encourage her to glue and fill up the spaces, but this time she did the whole thing pretty much by herself, except for the fact that i drew the hearts)

Photos: Initial




Photos: Final products

Anjali's little mozart concert

Such a happy lesson day



Looby Lou



Solo pieces: Twinkle Twinkle and Skip to my lou

A totally ggross conversation: Not to read if you are eating

Sophia is having a cold and we are walking to the library

Sophia: Mummy! Mookushali!

I wipe Sophia's nose with a handkerchief

Anjali: Mummy, you know something?

Me: What?

Anjali: Before you wiped Sophia's nose, I saw a big bubble coming out of it

(I warned you not to read if you were eating)

Me: Right. So you can make bubbles out of other things besides soap

Anjali: Yes, you can make bubbles out of your saliva, like this

And she demonstrates.

I am about to rebuke her when a scene flashes to my mind from about four and a half years ago. Anjali was a new born and Ammu had come to visit her.

Ammu: See amma, she is blowing bubbles

Lakshmipriya aunty: Yes, she is. Its so cute

Ammu: Why when she blows bubbles you say it is so cute and when I blow bubbles daddy scolds me?

I recount this story to Anjali, who ofcourse wants to hear the whole thing with all the details

Anjali: Why babies can blow bubbles and big children cant?

Me: It just doesnt look nice, putting saliva out of your mouth. But babies dont know that it is not nice.

Anjali: But if you let us blow bubbles with saliva, we can learn, we can learn how to blow bubbles with Saliva and explore and do experiments with it

there she goes again, effective use of the two e words!

The perks of having a daughter who likes fancy Nancy

This is such a simple girly and messy activity for Playing by the book, and ofcourse husband would be no part in it, other than to exclaim periodically

"This is so girly!" in italics

We were reading Fancy Nancy Bonjour butterfly, where Fancy Nancy stayed in the city Squire motel, and lay down in the bathroom with green gunk on her face and on Marabelle's face.

So we spread a towel on the floor, popped another one over Anjali's hair, stripped her down and covered her with gunk.

I was looking for basan flour, but we didnt have any at home, so i found something else. Ofcourse, the kitchen is so full of gunkable materials. 

I got a bowl full of gunk. Sophia and I sat on either side of Anjali. Sophia had earlier refused to get the spa treatment "When i am big, I will do this!"

We began to put the stuff on Anjali's face

"Mummy, Are you putting Manjal podi on my face?"

"Yup!" Kudos to the sense of smell.

So we put turmeric on the face and most of the body and then wrote stuff on Anjali's body with our fingers using the turmeric as finger paint

"Write Sophia!".. "Write two and then write the letters of two".. "Write I love you"

After which Anjali chose to keep the manjal podi on her face for a while while I threw together some lunch.

She wasnt done though

Extending play

One day they are running naked through the house and the next day they are asking questions like

"Mummy, boys cant see me without a shirt only girls can see me without a shirt right?" or  "Why are your wearing two shirts" (When I wear spagetti strap under a particularly transparent blouse) or "Why we have to wear clothes and animals dont have to wear clothes?" or "Why did God chase out Adam and Eve because they wanted to wear clothes"

Frankly the last one had me quite flummoxed and I often get the sensation that i am tying myself into increasingly complicated knots.

So she comes into the kitchen as I am stirring the risotto.

"Mummy, can you give me some manjal podi, I want to sprinke them over these shells so that they look beautiful"

Earlier in the week, Anjali and Sophia and husband had painted a bunch of little seashells. I put the seashells into a coconut shell and Sophia had ignored my suggestion of leaving it in the nature table and had left it in the Ganesha altar. Now Anjali wanted to sprinkle turneric on them.

I gave it to her

"And some water please?"

And before I knew it, the seashells were ignored (I slipped them back to the Ganesha table) and there was a puddle of yellow water on the floor.

"Mummy, can I have some more manjal podi? without any water?"

"Why?" I ask

"Because I am doing an experiment"

Anjali has figured out that if she says the word experiment or explore, i would be open to almost anything.

I dont quite know what happened to the manjal podi, but she came in again in a couple of minutes requesting green paint

"Green paint or blue paint?" I asked

"Green paint for painting", she says, "And blue paint for the experiment"

So naturally, we ended up with blue paint in the yellow water

"When I added a bit of blue, it is light green and when I added a lot it became dark green"

And then she began to do a horizontal rolling kind of dance to the tune of bare necessities

"This is so much fun! We should do this everyday"

"Ok", I said, trying to be non committal and encouraging at the same time

"But we can only do it on Saturday and Sunday. On other days we have to go to school", she went on

"Why dont you do it after school?", I asked

"But patti wont let us do this", she pouted

"Why not?"

"Because patti is a ..."

I didnt quite catch the last part so I asked her to repeat it

"Because patti is a blew plew!"

And then she made me sing a whole new world and looby loo for doing the wierd splatter on the puddle on the floor dance.

And then i dragged her into the bath and washed her hair

The leg and the mule

"Surprise!" said Anjali, as i walked in yesterdat

"What?", I asked

She rose from the piano chair and walked, a little limping, but mostly ok towards me

"Wow!", I said, giving her a hug.

"I have another surprise!", she said. "sit here"

And she played skip to my lou from the beginning to the end.

And then as I was changing my clothes, she says "Mummy, my leg is better right? Can i go to the playground this evening?"

I dissuaded her from the playground idea.

============
Sophia toddled in

"Sophia", I said severely "i want to talk to you"

"no No!", she says, although two minutes ago, she was jumping near me, wanting to use my legs as a trampoline.

"Come here", i said

"No No. I dont want to talk to you" This was said, without any fear or stubborness - just a matter of fact statement.

"I heard that you bit your sister yesterday"

"Mummy", said Anjali. "She bit me two times, one on this side and one on that side"

"I bite Anjali", said Sophia, just as calmly "and then I goed into time out"

=============

And then Sophia got a scolding from me for knocking the hanging pot over and spilling the petunia seeds.

She looked at me for a smile, quite unrepentant, and got none.

Then she began to cry.

So I had to take her in my arms and ask her

"Do you want to finish planting the seeds and help me hang the pot?"

"No!!"

"Are you angry with me?"

"Yes". She made to bit me. But I had more experiences with her mouth and dodged and the kid got a fistful of my shirt in her mouth.

"Which part of you is angry with me - your shoulder?"

"No! My mouth is angry with you"

 

 

Husband's experiment with smoked fish

We have an oven which switches off after its timer runs out. So it can be turned on for a maximum of one hour. This is an excellent idea for safety, but is not so good when you want to make things like rice pudding, where you have to cook the rice for about three hours for the milk to thicken. Still, it was just a matter of staying around and resetting the timer after an hour.

Then husband told me that he wanted to experiment with leaving a piece of salmon in the oven overnight to smoke. In theory, it was a wonderful idea, but was he planning to get up on the hour to reset the timer? Note: I wouldnt put it past husband.

Finally, he decided to try the experiment during the day. What with Anjali's leg and everything, I didnt give it much thought until I asked him in the evening.

"It was not so good. More like smoked jerkin - too dry and too salty"

"Did you eat it? ", I asked

"I ate most of it" he said "The girls took a nibble each"

"Mummy", said Sophia. "It was so good that i cant believe my eyes. I want to eat and eat it all up"

Husband was rather indignant. But I asked her

"Then why did you take only a nibble?"

"Because daddy made it and he ate it all up and give me onuly a little bit"

Given that she is such a vegetarian, it is not much of a stretch to figure out whose side of the story to believe, but I am impressed with her story nevertheless. 

the positive side of a bandaged leg

Anjali wanted to go to the playground on Monday. With her kick scooter and two fans. Sophia took a bunch of props - two cups filled with play foam, two bags will fille god only knows what. I suggested her to take her bicycle (the small blue one), as she hardly got a chance to pedal.

It was Sophia's idea to push the bicycle down the slide. I was firmly against it. So was husband. But Anjali, who was practising fan dance with me jumped up to help her sister. To our surprise, they succeeded in getting the cycle up the slide and then down the slide.

I decided to go to the slides. If you cant beat 'em, join 'em.

They practised until they were very good at it - pushing the bicycle up and down the slides. They tried the small slide, the medium sized ones, the tall curving slide, and they tried different versions where the bicycle went down on one side and Anjali went down on the other.

I remember a post on damomma (who was a great inspiration but unfortunately closed her blog to do more constructive things with her life), where her girl who did gymnastics and danced in nutcrackcer bumped her nose against the door and needed a plastic surgeon. it was that story that I thought of and told Anjali when we were at the clinic for x-ray the next afternoon.

The circus show with the bicycle was over, Sophia had gone around the kids after showing them the various ways in which you could eat a cupcake made of playfoam, Blesse had attempted more than once to eat the playfoam, without much success.

Then Anjali clibed up the slide and walked on the playground platform.

A thud and a scream

"momma!!!"

I ran up the playground.

"My bones are broken!"

Husband and I knew Anjali's flair for dramatics over small scratches and weren's really worried -not when she asked us to carry her upstairs, and not when she refused ice. over time, the crying subsided and Anjali said "I fell down and I heard a crack and it felt as if my bones were all broken"

But when she had trouble walking from the bedroom to the living room the next day, we knew something was wrong, even though google had said that it was probably a sprain. The doctor put her in bandages and gave instructions not to move the leg much.

On the positive side, that has given Anjali plenty of time to do sitting stuff - like piano, reading and painting, stuff we would be hardpressed to make her do on normal days.

And I finally got the time to plant six new pots of seeds, all from the seeds that i got in Romania.

Message to Bunica: many of the seeds have started sprouting. Unfortunately, i donot know which is which yet.