This time of my own....

It has been more than two years since Puttachi was born, and she has never stayed away from me overnight. A few hours, yes, eight hours being the longest time she has been away from me. But yesterday, my parents took her home with them.

I am getting glowing reports. She is no trouble at all, everything is hunky-dory. She is enjoying herself thoroughly - and not once has she even mentioned me! I tried to get her to talk to me on the phone - but she was too busy listening to stories that my mother was telling her about Peevee and me.

As for me, I am feeling very weird. In the night, it seemed strange to not feel the steady, heavy breathing on the crib next to my bed. I missed the little hand, soft and warm, creeping up towards mine to hold the ring on my finger. But I welcomed the rare undisturbed sleep.

For about twenty minutes this morning, I couldn't think of what to do at all and felt uneasy and restless. Then I slapped my forehead, exclaimed, "Carpe diem!" and am relishing this time of my own.

Until tomorrow, then...

Update at 1:25 PM: So much for seizing the day. I am bored stiff, and am feeling so lazy that I don't feel like moving a limb to do all those things I had planned.

Update at 3 PM: I was so bored that I had a nap. I have stopped having naps after Puttachi was born (unless I am tired) because I think them a waste of precious time.

How ironic! When Puttachi is around, I feel like snatching a little time for myself all the time, and now that she is nice and safe and happy in mom's hands, I have all the time to do everything, but I absolutely cannot get myself to move.

I simply must stop these twitter-like updates and do something. Ta.

P.S. Aaaaargh!!

Questions, questions, and questions...

I had heard and read about the phase of questioning. Why, how, what, who, where... but I had no idea it would be this irksome.

Puttachi is full of questions and that gets unbearable at times. The chain of questions can go and on and on, and neverending.

She: What is that?
Me: Shirt
She: Whose shirt?
Me: Papa's shirt
She: Who bought it?
Me: I did.
She: From which shop?
Me: XYZ shop
She: Where is XYZ shop?
Me: Jayanagar
She: Which Jayanagar?
Me: Jayanagar where so-and-so lives.
She: Who so-and-so?

And on and on on.

Nowadays, after one question, I do the questioning and answering myself.

She: What is that?
Me: Shampoo whose shampoo Papa's shampoo which shampoo XYZ shampoo who bought it Papa bought it which shop ABC shop ....
And then she looks at me and laughs, the imp.

She likes asking questions for which she knows the answer.
She: (pointing to a picture of Obama) Who is that?
Me: Tell me yourself.
She: Obama.
This happens all the time.

Some questions have no answer.

Me: Come on, let's have lunch.
She: What lunch?
Me: Rice and huLi
She: Which huLi
Me: pumpkin huLi
She: How?
Me: Now how what?

or

She: Who had called you?
Me: Papa
She: Which Papa?

I think that she feels compelled to ask questions - she doesn't even know what she is asking sometimes.

And then she wants entire conversations repeated.

Me: Let's take off your frock.
She: I don't want to.
Me: But it's dirty. Let's wear another frock.
She: Ok.
After two seconds.
She: What did Amma say?
Me: Amma said, "Take off your frock".
She: Then what did Puttachi say?
Me: Puttachi said, "I don't want to."
She: Then what did Amma say?

And so on. I used to answer patiently in the beginning, repeating the whole conversation, but now I ask her to repeat it herself, and she does.

Oh and one more thing. She thinks I am omniscient. She doesn't understand that I might not know the answers to some things.

Check out this example.

She: *Eating a bun* Who made this?
Me: It is from the bakery.
She: But who made it?
Me: I don't know, mari.
She: Who made it?
Me: I don't know.
She: Who made it?
Me: I really don't know, Puttachi.
She: Amma, amma, tell me amma, who made it, amma?
Me: An uncle made it.
She: Which uncle?
Me: I don't know.
She: Which uncle?
Me: I don't know, dear.
She: What is his name, Amma?
Me: I have no idea, baby.
She: Amma, amma, what is the name of the uncle who made this bun?
Me: Ramesh Uncle (blurt out the first name that comes to mind.)
She: Where is he?
Me: He finished making the bun, went to his house in Malleshwaram, placed his head on his pillow and fell fast asleep.
(Triumphantly giving myself a five, thinking that that should do the trick.)
She: (After a moment) How?

You get the picture.

The journey of learning

The thing with kids growing up is that it happens so gradually that you don't realize it usually, unless you happen to see an old photo and say, "Oh hey, look at that!" It is even more difficult to notice the growth in their intelligence and reasoning and knowledge of things.
But when you have a toy or a book that has been with you throughout, you have a kind of yardstick to note how your child has grown.

Let me explain.



The two toys in the picture, for example, have been with us ever since Puttachi has been a few months old. We had kept the Channapatna stacking toy away until she stopped putting things into her mouth, but the other toy, the one with shaped blocks, she has chomped through her teething.

So first, it was only good for biting. As she grew slightly older, she liked to look at and feel the blocks, and place them one over the other. After a while, I tried to teach her the concept of dropping the blocks into the box through the shaped holes. I still remember, when I said, "Put this in the box", Puttachi had looked at me quizzically, removed the yellow lid, and dropped the block into the box. Yeah, yeah, smart alec.;)

But one day, suddenly, she realized what it was all about. She took each block, tested it against each shape and dropped it. Then came the time she would look at the block, look at each shape and then drop it correctly.

And now? Now she even mouths "This is a green triangle, this is a blue circle" and drops it in. So the whole journey from biting the blocks to naming their shapes and colours has been one big journey which I have been able to actually notice.

Similarly, the stacking toy. She now can stack it from biggest to smallest and vice versa all along telling me all the colours.

There are some books too which tell the story of the learning journey. Previously, she would just look at the pictures and gurgle, then she would point out objects if I named them. Then came the time she named the objects herself, and soon she was old enough to listen to and understand the story herself, and now she tells me the story herself.

I have said it before, but I never cease to marvel at this journey. It is a miracle.