Dining on Soo-Pee, Dancing to Waka-ka

My last post, my dear, was a month ago and it was about the sweetest 'I lowe lu' I have ever heard. It's not that you haven't given me special moments, surprises, sweet nothings or just made me smile in the past one month...it's just that I've been a little too held up coping with a few things: your playschool (yes dear you're officially going to school now. We'll do one post dedicated to that soon, with pics too. I promise!), my driving class (yes, mama's finally decided to get behind the wheel and drive you around town. We'll do our secret outings, visit the beach, the parks and lots of lovely places. A promise again!), my attempts at weight loss (I am sure you don't care about this one. I know you love me just as much even if I am nearly 20 kilos overweight, have a double coating of extra flab, and can't wear clothes that flatter. But again I promise, my munchkin, I'll soon get back in shape and we can do all that now mommy shies away from--swimming, roaming the beach in cute lil shorts, etc) and of course the fuss and mess of finding a proper home-help (something you definitely need not worry about. You're happy as long as the "chechi" plays with you, does the "aana" act for you carrying you on her back, gets you your favourite but forbidden snacks when mama's not around, lets you help her with drying the laundry, chopping the tomatoes, grating coconuts, sweeping, mopping and plays mechanic and fixes all your toys (Sadly, that isn't exactly the qualities mama's looking for, though these would definitely earn them extra brownie points). A couple of weddings--remember Dudu's kalyaami in your words--and a few other emergencies kept me away from the blog.
Today's not been a great day so far. You're still irritated about the cold, running nose, congestion and it's making you cranky. It pains to see you in discomfort but mama's losing her cool too. Sorry sweets! I'll learn and imbibe the virtue called Patience. Anyways this is not about you, your cold or my lack of certain virtues.
As I hear you put forth your demands, give your comments, express your desires and anger, I realise that in one month you've learnt a lot. Your vocabulary is impressively big and you surprise us with new words every day. You're growing, my love, and soon you'll be a big boy. Awww...my baby!
You make something as dry as patichee (chapathi) sound so cute. You relish oluma (omlette) You enjoy your soo-pee (soup), dance to your favourite Waka-ka (Waka waka), makes me sing Gimme-som (Give me freedom...) repeatedly and ends most of your sentences with 'Ok, cool'. What a joy it is to hear you talk. These are few words you chose to say your way, but for most others you've picked it right and you say it clear enough to make us understand. We love it darling. Muaahhh.

I Lowe Lu

My Munchkin...
You're now a year and 9 months, you walk, you run, you speak in this wonderfully sweet tone and pronounce words the way you find like it (which is also the cutest) and you're growing day by day. I see the mischief give way to a bit of stubbornness, the sweet, longing cries change to tantrum bawls, the shrill screams and wails at the very mention of NO. It's a phase, everyone tells me. All kids grow through this. Yes, they do. All parents go through this phase of helplessness too. Yes, they do. But it hurts to see the innocence, at times, give way to arrogance (it's too heavy a word for a tiny tot like you).
Just when I begin to sulk over the change that's sweeping you, you run up to me with a tight hug and say 'Amma, I lowe lu', which in the cutest I love you I've ever heard. And I know, you're still the my little baby who hugs, kisses and showers me with I lowe Lu for no particular reason.

Now I understand what your grandma often told me: 'You're still a child for me'. How true. You could be as tall as your dad or taller, you would have long given up your little red-yellow cycle and would be zooming in a cool black, heavy bike, you would have replaced your nursery rhymes with your own rock n roll favourites, you would no longer be sipping on water from a pretty blue bottle and instead maybe enjoying your cokes or cocktails...you would no longer call for mama when it's bed time, you would no longer cry when abba leaves for office and would no longer insist on seeing your grandparents every evening. The years would have rolled by and you would be a young, handsome boy but for me you'll still be the little one with a broken front tooth, who loves elephant riding on my back, loves to sleep off on his dad's chest, enjoys his daily bike ride to the railway station to watch the trains chug by, who would be cheered with an auto ride... the little one who came and conquered my life like no other man ever has! I LOWE LU ADS. 

My champ...victorious

Finally you did it, without fear and without mommy screaming at you. The slide in the park outside Bechi's house has fascinated in you for weeks now. Your weak-hearted mom and grandmom weren't too thrilled to have you up there. Every time you took a step up on the ladder, I'd come running and bring you down which would be received with loud cries from you. And then there was that day when you slyly climbed up all the way and was up there dancing and just being shaky and tottering about on that bridge that extends to the sliding side. In your excitement you didn't quite care if your feet were firm on the surface or was slipping on to the opening in the side. Here I was, standing down, trying to reach up to you and get a hold on you. Since then, I firmly stopped you from climbing up. Your many cries and protests didn't melt my heart.

Then yesterday, you were up to it again. This time, mama felt confident and didn't protest. There you were cautiously treading up the ladder, and the minute you got up there you sat down and then dragged yourself all the way till the slide, positioned your hands and legs rightly and came zooming down. The joy on your face (OR was it the thrill of having proved yourself to mommmy) was so adorable. Then it was a repeat of the whole process...Again...and Again...and again...

I was too focussed on getting you up there safe and getting you down without scratches that I forgot to capture the moment of success. Next time I promise to click you standing up there victoriously and sliding down with a look of half joy and half anxiety of reaching down safe. Muahh my champ.

You, me and a Fun-day Sunday

It was a Sunday. You'll learn to appreciate a Sunday only when you start school. Your father had warned me that he would be working this particular Sunday, and it wasn't received with great joy by me. Confession: It was mainly because that would mean having to entertain you all day all by myself. I was exhausted by just the thought. The day started like a regular office-day and you're dad was off to work by 19, by which time you had curled up in bed for your morning nap. I was thrilled, and there you lay peacefully until 12. Once you're growling tummy was satisfied with milk, you were energised and ready to do what you did best: get naughty.

You decided the cushions looked better on the floor than on the sofa, toys added to the home decor when strewn around in abstract designs, it was fun to have spoons, saucers and cups going cling-clang every now and then, and yes a nice, round, pink onion is a thing of beauty in the living room. All done, you were satisfied with what you had achieved, and I had long given up my screams of resistance.

Your next item that needed some change from its present form and place was 'mommy dearest'. While I was comfortable lounging on the floor, you thought I looked better on my fours. There I was first an elephant that moved and swayed with a funny sound while you propped on top clinging onto my hair for support, then it was bow-wow time where I had to be quick on my fours like the doggies. Zoo time was over and I was lying flat on the floor, exhausted. Before I knew it, there was a thud and you had jumped on to my tummy and was laughing hysterically. I failed to see the fun but as always your laughter was contagious.

Then came the hide-n-seek, some fun with the remote, a few 'hello' sessions with the phone, a lunch between, and you decided to do a half an hour nap and was back with a bang. A few more elephant rides, a fun TV programme on dogs (that you absolutely loved, despite not being much of a TV person, at least now), more 'mincing mamma' games which left me punched in the tummy, chest, legs, back...whew! The bright side: it had you in laughter all the way. A few stories in between, a song you sweetly hummed for me, a few new words added to your vocabulary and before we knew it, evening had arrived, and did your Abba.

Thanks my cartoon network for making my Sunday so laughter-filled and lovely. Muaaahhh!!!

PS: I'll try and put up some pics of your Sunday Fun.

Alubululu...abluluu...kalabluu...alakala....

I may call it Gibberish, but it's the sweetest language I've ever heard and I long to hear them over and over again. Amma was the first clear word you said, though it initially started as 'Ammi' and somewhere along turned to Amma. Then came kaaka (crow), your favourite bird. A liking, I believe, more because it was the only creature you saw (apart from humans) from the balcony of our 9th floor apartment. The cows, goats, cats..all came later as you spotted them on the roads and empty plots near your grandma's house.
Coming back to your first attempts at speaking....you were always 'the man of little words'. You believed in action rather than words and there you would be crawling, then walking all over the house getting your things done. Somewhere during those days you surprised us with a full 1-minute uninterrupted speech which went something like 'amma....alubululu...abluluu...kalabluu...alakala....' and so it went. You had a strange sense of satisfaction after delivering this rather exhausting line, and here we were trying hard to recover from our laughter. We tried to get you to repeat it but then 'golden words aren't repeated'. These conversations continued, though mostly in bits.
Amma, kaakka were the 2 most-used words. I tried to get you to say 'achan' mainly so that your dad didn't get a feeling that since he wasn't around all day, you weren't too excited about him. Despite my regular efforts, you never even attempted to say achan. As you got more observant ad started going out more often (with dad, grandparents and of course Jocy), you started picking favourites and would attempt to say their names. You also did pick up a few words to get your things done. So there you were with an improved vocabulary: Bella (water), Ballaaa (ball), Palleee (lizard), Maeeww (cat), Boh boh (dog), Poo-pa & Chucha (for you bathroom trips), To to (tomato), Pepaa (paper, pen), Laalaa (lorry), aatoo (auto), Bykaa (bike), tyka (cycle), ka-ka (specs), Maanna (mango), Kodhoo (mosquito), Gadhuuu (goat), aannaa (elephant), Paam (pram), pais (money)...and still learning. Of course the tata and buh-byess are there too. Everytime the phone rings, you're the first squeak out a cute 'Hallooo' which sounds so adorably cute. Will try to records a few of these, and you'd know just how cute you sound.
Now for the favourite people in your life. You've mastered Amma and call it aloud clearly and a 100 every day. Love you for that sweets! After many many trials you settled for 'Abba' as the name for your dad. Amma and Abba it is for you. I find it quite cute though your Ammumma tries to get you to say 'Achan'. She's not been lucky so far. You have 2 sets of grandparents: one here in Kochi, and the other at Ramapuram. Here you have your 'Muthashan & Muthashi' and in Ramapuram you have your 'Ammumma & Muthashan'. Muthashan & Muthashi became 'Muchi' for you...and a few days later you changed it to Bechi. All Muthashans & Muthashis (irrespective of gender) are called Bechi. You next favourite is, of course, Jocy. We insist you call him Jocy chettan, considering there is a small age difference of around 40 years between the two of you. But Jo-chi it is for you and it remains so. At home here, we have Jisha to help amma and to take care of you. Initially you didn't have any particular name or sign or sound to identify Jisha. You would just go up to her and hit her when you wanted her attention. (She's been here since you were 6 months). One day, as she walked in, you ran to her screaming Jish...Jishh... It was sooo cute my munchy. At times when you really want to bribe her into doing something, you call out a very sweet mushy Jishyyy.
Adzy baby...how easily you have us in smiles with your little doings... love you sweetie-pie.

Peek-a-boo

Finding happiness in little things, celebrating little joys, smiling at the small wonders...these are lessons I learnt from you my little son. It's so easy to please you. When you're cranky or crying over something, all mama needs to do is hide her face in her hands and say Olichooo and then pop up from behind my palms and scream Kandoo (the peek-a-boo game). This has been your favourite game since you were 5-6 months and still remains. Now you're one and a half. To be able to stick to a favourite for one whole year and still have the same joyous smile every time the game's played, is no easy task my love. Again, something mama can learn from you.
Earlier we started the game, today you get it going. You run into a corner in the room, or the side of a wardrobe, anyplace where you can see us (and of course we can see you clearly, but that doesn't seem to matter as long as we pretend you're invisible to us) and then you scream out 'Ammaaa..Ammaa..'. I am to promptly respond but then realise you're not to be seen anywhere around. With an anxious face, I look around, behind the curtains, in the balcony, under the table (which for some reason has you chuckling from your hiding spot), inside the newspaper rack and then suddenly turn to that mischevous corner and exclaim 'there you are...my mamu darling'. If I could freeze that moment, for it brings out the widest smile in you and a glowing sparkle in your tiny eyes. A joy like none other.
Peek-a-boo continues to save my day often. Going through your album I realise we have many peek-a-boo moments captured on camera. Am sure you'll love them.
We play this game at least 7-8 eight times every day. Each time your face brightens just as much, if not more. And here we, adults, are complaining about the routine, the mundane, the everyday things. Mama needs to learn from you Adzy on how to enjoy the everyday things, the daily dos.
I love you my love...muaahhh.

Playing by the baby rule book: Month 3

I am not going to be following a timeline here. Simply b'coz it's not possible. There are so many surprises and sometimes shockers that you, my lil Aashu, have gifted me in the past one and a half years that I can't date them exactly. So don't be surprised if you see a note about your first tooth, and then later find me going weak in joy talking about your oh-so-cute toothless smile.
I remember the day you turned 3 months, you were on a mat on the floor. Soon I see you struggling to do a tummy turn. I was thrilled and watched in excitement as you tried and tried. You would turn to your side, try pushing yourself forward but would son fall on you back on to the mattress. You didn't give up and I was amazed at your patience and determination. Proud too! You kept doing the back-and-forth dance repeatedly until you suddenly rolled over on your tummy. I jumped off my seat and you were shocked too. I rushed to see if you were okay. Your eyes sparkled with the look of an achiever.
As if to prove your mastery over it, you repeated the tummy act 3-4 times continuously. An elated mother, me ran to call your father and share the great news. Our son's touched the first milestone. Your father was thrilled, and the great news was passed on to your grandparents too. Everyone was waiting to catch you in the act. But despite repeated requests, and mommy even doing a demonstration of the whole process, you refused to display your new-found skill. Soon the family was giving me the looks, as if it to say 'Did he actually ever do it, or was it just an over-enthusiastic mother's imagination?'. He did do it, not once but more than thrice...all in one stretch, I said. Don't think they believed me son.

I didn't give up, and kept trying and trying. Soon you made it clear that you weren't enjoying amma playing ringmaster act, forcing you to turn this way and twist that way. I gave up. I came to the conclusion that you were overhearing all the conversations going on in the house where people were saying most babies turn over when they are 3 months. Guess you didn't want to disappoint your parents and decided to go by the 'baby milestone chart', even if only for a day. So there you were doing what babies were meant to do (or so the wise claimed) at 3 months: successfully turn over on your tummy and view the world from a new angle.

Of course a month later, you were back to the tummy-turning act and this time with no prompting or coaxing. The minute you were down on a mattress of floor, you'd turn over, look around for a few minutes and then cry for help to be back on your back. And look at you today, you can lie on your back, your tummy, crawl on all fours, sit, stand, walk (errr...not really, you'd rather run, and aimlessly too and stopping only when you bang on to a door or wall).