A Mondegreen... And An imagination

It was just another busy morning... in fact busier! Anant was late in waking up; at 9:35 I had to pull him up from the bed, and he was so reluctant coz Papa was still sleeping!! (Papa had slept late, but does that matter?)

So there we were, finally on the breakfast table, I trying hard to make Anant eat fast and Anant hell-bent on not improving his speed. He was adamant and I was getting furious. He was trying to make me smile and I was not ready to smile till I saw his plate clean... and fast!

In the background was playing the CD of 'Guide', I was trying to drown my fury in the melody... when I suddenly heard Anant singing with the song... in all seriousness... lost in his world... as usual. The words that came out from his lips had this amazing effect... I just couldn't stop giggling... seeing him, sitting there, playing with his cheela and singing, "Mote chal, mote chal"!!!! In the background, Lata Mangeshkar rued melodiously, "Mose Chhal, mose chhal... mose chhal kiye jaaye..."

I guffawed, at this innocent mondegreen, a product of Anant's limited vocabulary which contained neither mose nor chhal. There was this look of relief, mischief and 'how smart I am' in his eyes as soon as he saw me laughing. He knew he has not heard it right, and, immediately, there was a story in his head:

"See Mamma, there is this queue at Prithvi Theater, everyone is going in except this Mota Aadmi (this fatso) and there is this girl behind him and she want to go in and this Mota is not moving, so this girl starts singing, 'Mote chal, mote chal'.

And I had to stop the story there, by putting food in his mouth. He has won again, Mamma was feeding him, finally!!

BTW, here is that lovely song:

Little Monster and Aliens

It was ten-thirty last night; we had just finished a game of sword-fighting and it was time to bed for Anant, but he wanted another game. His school has just recently started and it's a full six hours of classes, which is leaving him quite tired, and I want him to sleep 'on time'. So I had put my foot down - no more games, time to sleep.

And since he was tired, he was cranky too. So he started wailing and fighting and ultimately came out the threat. With cries of "no one loves me here, no one wants to see me happy" (how many time have I heard this!!!) Anant declared, "I'm leaving home!" He stared at me sternly... and added, "going to Mars, will stay with aliens!"

That is something. When I was five, I had no clue about mars, forget about aliens. Maybe it had something to do with Monsters Vs Aliens, though I doubt so. The alien in it was quite scary, Anant won't like to live with such creatures. I guess, it is Ben 10, the TV series, in which a boy can turn into aliens. That has maed aliens fashionable... and friendly among the kids.

But I still have no clue why he chose to go to mars! Do you think he heard the "men are from mars" theory already? I must ask him tonight.

Still Life by Anant

Anant has been clicking around with our Nikon coolpix for some time now. Some time back I watched him as he arranged his favourite Power Ranger toys and clicked them! Some nice Still Life shots they made...

Little Picasso

It's been long since I blogged last here. Anant has grown up a lot in these few months. He's still a devil many times, but he is definitely learning and really 'trying to be a good boy' now.

He has accepted 'one toy a month' rule and dinnertime TV is over (although he still often throws a fit, trying to have 'just this one show' allowed!). Yesterday he even agreed to study for half an hour before half an hour of TV. But that was because Papa had very strictly told him 'no TV for a day' for throwing a fit and screaming on our building's staircase (a public place) at nine in the night. And Papa has also said that if he does not follow this 'no TV for one day' he will have to go without TV for whole of the month!

Meanwhile, between all this 'trying to be good' and 'tired of being good' boy, Anant is turning quite an artists. Here is a sample of my little Picasso... shall soon post more...

Telecommuting Woes

I'm totally confused again.

I've got a steady job, telecommuting, with a reasonably OK salary. I was earlier required to go to the office twice a week, but now I'm told I can just stay home all week and work. That's great, tells me everyone who hears about it.

I've got a job which I'm not really enjoying. I'm sitting at home all day, whole week, with not a soul to talk to. I sign in at 9 in the morning, take a 15 minute break at quarter to ten when I bathe my son and quickly get him dressed so that he's ready to be picked up by his daycare help. I go back to my work, eat my breakfast at my desk, take another break of half an hour for lunch. This, sometimes runs a little longer. through with lunch and back to the machine, a bit of online chat sometime till I break for tea (usually for the two mins it take to make tea). Then back to staring at the silly screen till 6:30, when I hear Anant screaming downstairs. That's when I really turn to a human voice after more than 9 hours of work. It's stressful sometimes, boring often and so tiring always.

Then there is the issue of the holidays. The website needs to be updated every single day. TV serials are on even on a Friday, a Saturday, a Christmas, a Diwali, a Dussera... you name the holiday. Our team works through these days. People take turns, someone working on one Saturday, another one sacrificing his Dussera. I don't. I can't. Whenever it's a holiday for Anant, I just can't work. Anant is a restless child. He won't sit idle (oh yes, he's watching a bit too much TV these days, but I don't think he'll watch TV the WHOLE 9 hours any given day, neither would I allow him that). When he's home he needs me to read him books, tell him stories, answer his queries, play indoor cricket with him, place orders at his make-believe restaurant and drink his imaginary nimbu-pani in his toy glass. I must sit with him while he eats, tell him stories, feed him. I must lie down with him when he needs to sleep, pat him, even slap him coz he is sleepy but 'not sleepy'. So, I CAN'T work on a day when Anant is home.

Which means I can't work on a Saturday or a Dussera or any other day when his daycare is closed. Which, of course, may not go down well with others in the team. Though they always say they understand and it's OK, I, sometimes, feel it's not really that OK. Especially when I get an SMS on a Saturday morning saying 'hope you r enjoying your holiday', or when I get a call on 2nd October, asking me if I "have taken the day off" when it IS an official off and I was never asked to work on that day.

It's on such occasions that I wonder if I should move on. Move on to a job where no one is required to work on any holiday.

But then, I have my constraints. My time, which is so bound with Anant. I wonder what's wrong there. I remember bosses from my previous job telling me how I will always remain on a plateau till I devote more time to work. How, in my work review, they had expressed their hope that "now, that your son has grown (Anant was just around three at that time), you will be able to devote more time to work", when I was already working till two in the night to compensate for my rushing home exactly after eight hours.

And then I shudder, I don't want to go through all that again. I don't want to live with that double guilt of neither giving enough time to Anant nor to my job. I wish I had a job with an office somewhere nearby. A job, for which I could leave my home at nine thirty, be at office at ten, leave office at six thirty and yet be back with my son by seven. That's a dream, that's what I long for. But for now it's confusion that rules my life.

That Guilty Feeling Again

It's tough being a working mother. Especially when you don't have any support system at home.

It's often tougher on the kid. :(

A was down with fever since Sunday. I couldn't take off; Monday is the only time of the week when I go to office. So there was no choice but to pack him off to his day care. The fever was not too bad either, hence no guilt trip that day.

Tuesday morning he again got up with fever; decided to keep him home. He was quite OK, mild fever through the day; spent the whole day playing. Though he tried his best not to disturb me (He's really growing up :D), it was not bad. Tried to make him sleep in the afternoon; gave up after patting him for fifteen minutes; couldn't waste more than that of my precious working hours. Finally, after much scolding, he slept.

He was OK through out the rest of the day yesterday, as well as this morning. Well, mild fever was there, but... decided to send him to daycare as well as school.

And then he comes back in the evening, all burning and tired and irritated and crying. And I'm on one of those guilt trips again. Shouldn't have sent him off. Should have kept him home. But he wouldn't have let me work :(

Decided not to send him tomorrow. And he was to dress up as Nehru and say a speech too! 15th August celebrations at school... now he's not going to attend that. Hubby's bought an expensive silk Nehru jacket for him... wasted :(

There goes the money minded mother of today! All that it leads to... wastage of money!!! The child is sick!!! Come on!!!

Is It His Fault?

A was sent back home from the neighbors last evening.

He was playing with their sons (two grown up men, no kids); the game was WWE wresting and Chhota Chahcu (the younger of the two, 22 I think) was not letting the poor kid (four years and 7 months) win. Chahcu was hitting, blow after blow and finally, a frustrated A screamed at him., 'Chhodo mujhe." But this was not all. The frustrated scream was suffixed with "kameene!"

It was this word that had stunned them and their mother, A's favorite. The silence was so sudden that A was scared. And, then, when he was asked by Mrs. K, with a stern gaze, from where did he learn this 'bad word', A was scared as hell. He started screaming, kicking, pushing and trying with all his might to evade them.

It was then that he was sent home and he immediately tried to bang the door shut, so that Mamma doesn't get to hear from them what all the commotion was all about. But of course, I had already heard the commotion, being just right across the stairs with our living room windows opening side by side. I was about to go there and ask what was happening when there was a knock at the door.

Failing to shut the door, A rushed in the bedroom, screaming, crying, fuming; more scared when he saw Papa home. I was told by Mrs. K to find out who is teaching the kid such bad word. Of course we need to find out and take steps, maybe talk to the mother of the kid who's teaching him such stuff. Or find out if it's the maid at his daycare. But the moment I heard the 'bad word' that he had used, I knew from where it had come. In fact, he had learn it right inside their home!

While, I, at my place try to censor whatever TV he watches, even if it means sacrificing my favorite Friends reruns, at the neighbors, it's all there, bare for him. So when Aishwarya Rai and Shahrukh Khan gyrated on 'Ishq Kameena', nobody in their home thought of changing the channel, and A, as always, was glued to the TV. Back at home, he had asked me the meaning of ishq and kameen. Ishq, I had told him was love and kameena was a bad word. Why were the calling love bad, however, was beyond me. They sure were stupid; those characters that these two actors were playing! There could be no other explanation! But A is a good boy and good boys do not use bad words.

But good boys can definitely have raging tempers. And then it's no bad using a bad word, is it? After all Shahrukh uses it!!!