...memories from the womb days, the bassinet burps, the diapering disasters, the coos and the awws, the mighty firsts, and all those little moments part of growing up!
Our soon-to-be-8-but-going-on-18-with-all-that-sass daughter saunters down the stairs this morning...
Me: Hey Manya, good morning, you slept in today. Well what do you want for breakfast and then you can get on with your work day.
Her: Mom, At this point I only have my video on. Audio is not connected. Can you repeat that later when the network is better?
....
Well I never! This is a new format of disobedience in this house. And I am yet to figure out a good comeback - after all learning might be online but parenting is still in-person!
I am thinking more on the line of when I am called for, I should just say, "You are in the waiting room. The host will let you in when it is convenient."
I don't remember exactly when converstaions around gender started with Manya - but one instance that does come to mind is when Manya came back home from kindergarten, very knowledgeably stating, "Mom, did you know X's dad identifies as a girl - he is still dad not mom but feels like a woman."
It took me a few minutes to digest what she was saying. Well, I was aware of X's dad but the maturity of the parents to come to school and address the elephant in the room (especially in birthday parties) was so refreshing that I was bowled over. I asked her what had happened and realized that in her own simple way she had understood and accepted what many educated adults refuse to even acknowledge. And that is why they say, start them young. Read another related post here.
Well all that context was just to say that we time and again have had conversations on gender identities, gender roles, breaking moulds etc etc - basically normalizing the already normal.
And, Manya has been so mature about everything that it has been really easy... or atleast that was that I had been thinking. However, as she was drafting the birth certificate of her newest toy (a creepy robotic cat - maybe a post about that could be next) last week, I was surprised she said Cat in the Gender column. So I asked her about it.
Me: Manya how come your birth certificate says Gender is Cat. I thought gender is male or female. Cat is just the type of animal.
Manya: No mom. Gender is what you identify as - you can identify as a boy or a girl or what you feel. Beatrice identifies as a cat. So her gender is cat.
Me (thoroughly confused as to where to start - wondering that the discussion of biological sex vs. the social construct of gender would be a little too early to bring on, trying a simpler approach) - Umm okay so Manya I think gender is for human beings - for animals, the sex is identified as male or female.
Manya: Yeah, so Beatrice's sex is female but her gender is cat.
Me (understanding this is going nowhere): But Beatrice is already an animal - a cat.
Manya: Mom, Beatrice is not a human being and Beatrice is not an animal. Beatrice is a toy - she is a robot - she identifies her gender as cat - what is the problem with that. Anybody can identify as a cat. And that can be their gender.
Me (parking this conversation for later): Actually, nothing. You are right she is a toy. And I know so many days I actually identify as a cat or a female dog... (that part more to myself...)
Clearly looks like I have my daughter throughly confused (or not...) but after those five minutes, I was not so worried - it doesn' matter what she really understands and how deeply - what matters is that her mind is open to possibilities...and hopefully complete acceptance. I will take that tiny victory to satiate myself for the time being. More conversations will surely follow...
On a lighter note, so what do you identify as today? :)
2020 is surely going to be a historic year - and as our kids are caught in it, they are making history. First day of Grade 2 today. 100% remote learning. We missed the usual hustle and bustle of a new academic year - meeting teachers and new classmates, new bag packs and lunch bags and back to school outfits. These were replaced by a new desk, a new laptop, frenzied setting up of all the tech stuff - links and passwords, and calendar updates for all the meetings etc.
M starts the year with a huge interest in Politics - what with it being an election year and all. Let's see how long this phase lasts. Meanwhile, I have made it clear to her that no arguments at home till she actually gets her law degree :).
Quite a coincidence that a few days after I updated this blog with the post - One and Done, we had this conversation.
Me: "Manya, I am so done with repeating the same thing over and over again. It's like you have sworn to never listen at the first go." (Don't ask me what this was about - we are in isolation, remember, thanks to COVID-19 - we are all on the edge every now and then, but rest assured it was "not my fault".)
Manya walks to me with determined steps and in a very grave, sombre tone says...
"You know mom, that decision about having just one kid - that was a great decision by you. You simply don't have the patience for another kid."
I was aghast - she sprung that on me out of nowhere - no context, nothing. We haven't talked about this in ages. I could feel the rage rise through me...I tried to keep it all in, and just said cockily..
"Thank you for your great insight. I know my decisions are always right and so am I. Now get back to doing what I am telling you to."
Juvenile, yes but in my daughter's words, "whatever".
M: Mom, why does this electric pole warning say the word buried - is somebody buried here?
Me: Oh no Manya - it reads electric lines buried - check before digging.
M: Oh I thought you used buried only for people.
Me: No ... anything that is under the ground could be buried.
M: Oh. Mom is there is a graveyard in our city?
Me: Yeah - most cities have cemeteries or graveyards. Ours has one too.
M: Hmm...so all dead people are buried in cemeteries?
Me: Actually, a lot depends on the culture or more so the religion you are born into. Christians and Muslims bury their dead. Hindus burn them - it's called cremation. And then the ashes are usually scattered in a holy river or a place of importance to the person...
M: So what are we again?
Me: Hindus..
M: Oh no, that is cruel. I would never want you or myself to burn.
Me: Manya you have to understand the context - anyways once one is dead they can't feel the "burn". Hindus essentially believe that only the body dies, the soul lives on. So cremating sets the soul free and the body is believed to have come from ashes and returned to ashes. Also, in hinduism, fire is supposed to have a purifying power, something essential for rebirth, for life to continue...it's not really a symbol of destruction..
M: Hmmm. So when you die would you rather I burn you or bury you? I'd prefer to bury you - then I can visit you and have you close by...you know like Anne (of Green Gables) often visits Matthew Cuthbert's grave and plants roses and remembers him...
Me (amused at the inherent presumption of the necessity of death in the question): Umm, I think I'd rather be cremated...you know set free...
M: Okay, and what would I do with your ashes...
Me: Umm, let me think...
M (after great thought and with absolute earnestness): I know, I'll keep a little with myself always - and I will eat some so you will become a part of me...
Me (not oblivious to the morbidity of the conversation, a little emotional at her intent at an ever elusive "forever" and genuinine introspection): Umm keep a little of me with you for sure - but I am and always will be a part of you...irrespective of whether you choose to keep me with you or not - and you surely don't have to consume my ashes.
M: Okay..but I want to have some of your ashes and you know I have an idea what I'll do with the rest. I will sprinkle them in your favorite places...outside your parents' home, in all the pretty beaches, in the mountains. And some I will sprinkle at places that I visit and find very beautiful - so there will be a little of you in all the beautiful places.
Me: I think that is an awesome idea. I couldn't have thought of anything better. This covers it all. Nothing would make me happier.
M: When do you think will be the right time for you to die? I want you to die of old age at 103.
Me: There is no right time to die - we human biengs are inherently greedy - we always want a little more and a little more and a little more. Maybe I'll be at peace when you are well settled in your own independent life - are done with your education, have a career...
M: And you need to meet my daughters too..
Me: Yes and then there is that....but I am confident that you'll take charge of your life and always do what is right and good and I'll always be proud.
M (brushing away emotions in a very mature manner): 103 will be fine mom.
Me: Sure!
(We have reached home by now.. and M rushes to Vish, who has ofcourse no clue to what conversations we have been having...)
M: Daddy, would you like to be burnt or buried? And if burnt, what should I do with your ashes?
Vish (with that look screaming "now what the F#$% is this about"): Umm...what...where...umm...
M: Oh daddy...
(and then she spends the next hour and more debriefing him, after which it's settled in a quick minute that he wants to be one with the mountains and the family settles down for a round of icecream because inspite of the inevitability of the end and the bitterness that underlines it, life must be celebrated for the aching sweetness it brings :))
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Update: And this is why I love blogging, I just realized that 4 years ago we also had a conversation on the subject of death - Read it here. It will be fun to see how our conversations continue to meander as she grows :)
Though it is no longer a rarity, the idea of a single kid family is still met with raised eyebrows - especially if the decision is out of choice. And we will get into more of that later but first the why.
There is no really convincing why honestly - I have seen couples make this decision out of finanacial considerations, or because moms don't want to put a hold on their career a second time, or they simply think they are too old etc etc. Different strokes for different people. But let me focus on our case.
When family members and friends have enquired, depending on how the questions has been put forward I have been either frank and honest or defensive - none of your business really! As I have gained more white strands than I would like, I have realized this line of questioning in any manner does not aggravate me any longer. Maybe because I am now surer of my choice and myself?
Let's start this at the very beginning. I love kids! I absolutely have adored the tiny version of my brother, all the teeny weeny cousins that followed and the nephews and the nieces. When it came to a family of my own I was very sure I wanted atleast two of my own - all before I touched 30. But life had other plans - I had my lovely munchkin at 29. The sleepless nights and the zombie days that followed, I was convinced I was not cut out for this mothering s@#$. I swear I remember laying awake at night and thinking I had read the signs all wrong - turns out after all I am not a kid person.
In the next two years, I started feeling more like a real mother than an imposter who was faking it all - the conversations at home about a second one got more intense. We thought we should start trying after M turns three-three and a half. I'd be more experienced and she'd be less needy. But guess what happened when missy turned that age - she was potty trained, no diapers, no night feedings, no 100 ton snack and diaper bag needed always; we could pack her and ourselves at short notice and travel. Travel. We realized we have such a happy camper and an absolutely cooperative trooper - cross country flights, flights over the atlantic, jet lag, endless hours in the car and she'd still be cheery. (Knock on wood) It seemed all too perfect to change the dynamics. Suddenly, I was not looking forward to another two years of being a 24 hour all you can have milk bar, endless diapering, and all the sleeplessness all over again. We had really hit a very very sweet spot and didn't want more. And that is it. The fact is we are content and our hearts full. Also the emotional angle cannot be forsaken. The good days were plenty and great but the down days were there too and on those days one predominant thought would come to me was often thank god there's only one who is sick or jet lagged or going thru some phase or the other. Clearly one is all the energy and patience I had for and I embraced it. I did not look forward to being the super mom juggling never ending schedules and appointments and what not. I still do not. But that is for me. I do not judge who wants to have kids and how many or if any at all. God knows I still love kids. Adore all my friends' littles and love and respect those who decided to have more than one or not.
However organic, honest and real our decision making sounds to us, it's often met with but you are being selfish, but your child will be lonely, but your child will not know how to share and love, but this and but that. If I was writing this post even two years ago, I'd be tempted to post research and articles defending my choice but that would be naive of me. I never referred to those to make my decision - it just happened. So now, I just good naturedly respond to the naysayers and multibaby boomers hey guess we'll just see. I am happy with my decision and that's all that matters.
Manya used to often say she wants a sibling and that is one guilt that stirs ever so often in my core because I know she would make a great sibling. But I brush it away - for my own sanity - I love functioning within my known capacity limits and have been totaly honest with Manya about it. Added to that I think being a total Type A, my need to be in full control of specific situations, the better half's extremely hectic work days and schedule, I find the thought of being outnumbered by my kids truly daunting ;). I have confessed to M in so many words, "You complete us so thoroughly that we don't feel the need for another child. Yes, I am sure it would be delightful to have one of your own, a forever friend, a sibling - but mommy and daddy could only manage so much so here you are." When she was 4, one of the moms at her preschool told me that she said, "babies are hard work and my mom doesn't want to work hard enough." Ouch can't say that didn't hurt but got to give the kid A for perception!
They often say that if you feel an aching anticipation in your heart when you see a baby that means you really want one, and while I absolutely enjoy babies, I am ever so glad to give them back to their moms. When I see a baby I see a bundle of joy, albeit a very heavy one, one that requires a lot of endless work and responsibility ;).
M out of the blue one day used her normal writing pencils to follow a pencil sketching tutorial on YouTube. I was mighty impressed by the end result.
She ofcourse gauging my reaction thought it opportune to ask for proper supplies - a complete kit with all pencils including graphite and charcoal and smudgers and what not. Being the ever encouraging (and too appeasing according to Vish) mom, I agreed. I mean to her point she isn't going for any camps or travel or anything at all in the near future! Anyways Amazon Prime came to rescue and am happy to report she has been painstaking working on sketches ever since. This is her work so far! WHo knows she might just end up inspiring me, though I wouldn't hold my breath on that one.
(Background: As early as February, here in Seattle, the COVID-19 panic had started - which meant most "essential commodities were not available. At that time I had a partially opened bag of Basmati rice - I usually take smaller quantities in an everyday use container and keep refilling. Since the bag was more than half full, I didnt think much at the time. Come April, I realized our stocks were gettng depleted - now by this time most Indian stores were closed - making only deliveries - no Basmati rice was available anywhere. As a last resort, I picked a big bag of California long grain rice from Costco. Finally, Basmati in our household did get over and I got around to making the other rice.)
Manya: What's this stinking, short, fat rice you have made?
Me: What do you mean? It is normal rice?
Manya: No it is not.
Me: Manya, we usually have the Indian Basmati rice but since that's gotten over - only this is available. This is California long grain rice.
Manya: Oh boy, I do feel bad for the Californians.
Me: It's okay - it's not that bad.
Manya (launching into a lament): It's horrible. What has this world come to? A person can't even enjoy a simple meal! Oh, how I miss the good old days of basmati rice. I will never complain when you make plain daal and rice again - but with basmati. Oh how we must suffer in this pandemic.
Me (thoroughly amused): Sure, whatever. Eat up.
Manya (after a few spoonfuls): California - who would have thought? Aren't they advanced or something? They can't produce decent rice? Are they asking for donations to improve their rice quality? I will personally donate from my safe. Oh my god, I pity anybody who has to eat this rice.
Me (in splits) : Manya you are sounding so serious - don't rant like an old woman. Come on!
Manya (in a no nonsense tone): I don't know why you are so amused. There's nothing funny about this rice or this situation that we are in. Please check if basmati rice is available somewhere. Can nana send us some basmati rice? Indian food rocks. It's the best food ever. I used to like California but what did they do with the rice...
Believe me she went on and on and on....And I was tenderly reminded of my dad who can also launch into a rant if something very basic is not in place....
As I mentioned in the post here, M and I have been working on hindi language skills for the past few weeks - a bit of writing (I realize now that hindi is a much much easier language to write - it follows logical phonetical patterns...), a bit of speaking, a bit of listening. Honestly, it is seeming tougher than I thought. With Vish and I mostly conversing in English, Manya does not get to "hear" hindi - which means her exposure is limited and the nuances and context of the language is that much harder to pick up.
In frustration, she goes the other day, "How do I know whether कमरा (room) is boy or girl? How do I decide when to use what gender?" We are sticking to the good old wisdom - the more you use a language, the more you'll know.
Add to the gender mess, the pitfalls of translation. That goes two ways - in sentence construction - you cannot literally translate word for word - because the grammar and syntax and semantics differ greatly. Then the biggest hurdle at this point - vocabulary. With English, M first heard the language, then learnt to speak it, then learnt to read it and finally learnt to write. Over the years, her vocabulary has really grown - she expresses herself and her emotions in complex sentences using words beyond her age. Now, she feels the vaccumm of that lack of expression in hindi. We tell her not to think in English and try to translate, but try to think in hindi - but that is easier said than done. We are at the linguistic stage of मेरी माँ का नाम युविका है | (My mother's name is Yuvika.) But developmentally, what she wants to actually say is माँ preposterous है | "Mom, what is the hindi for preposterous?". Gosh, I have no idea! Forget the big words. "Mom what is the hindi for arm pits." Ummm. Errrr. "Mom, do you really know hindi?" Oops!
So ofcourse I had this big brain wave. She needs to watch hindi videos! What better way to use technology to learn a language. Since I am pretty clueless as to the current kids' hindi watchlist, I went back to my own childhood for pointers. We started with the then very famous and popular video on Doordarshan. Who does not remember "एक चिड़िया , अनेक चिड़िया". This was ofcourse immediately dismissed as boring.
I then introduced her to the source of my first childhood nightmares. विक्रम और बेताल. M was completely taken in by Betaal. She anyways loves all things gore, so the fascination was obvious. However, the stories (quoting her) "just don't make any sense". Also as I watched I realized that the stories were not only age inapporpriate but completely irrelevant given how the times have changed.
Finally, Vish started watching the Ramayana with her and they have been going on steadily. However, I don't know how much hindi she is learning. Every few minutes she lets out an exasperated sigh and finds something absolutely silly, stupid, obnoxious or "this just doesn't make any sense". We have reached the part where Ram and Lakshman have finally found Hanuman and the story of Bali and Sugreev is introduced.
Here are some of her observations in her very own words...
"I love Indian gods and the Indian kings and queens from the olden days - they have so much gold, and gems, and jewellery." (A side note: In complete contrast to me who is a no jewellery person, M loves jewellery - the blingier the better!)
(Ram-Sita Wedding)
"Why is everyone looking at Ram so lovingly? I don't find him that handsome. Why is Sita's mother looking at him like that?"
(Me: "Manya she is captivated by his divinity - his beauty, charm - his godliness.")
"I think he looks quite ordinary."
(Ram being sent for vanvas)
"This is so unfair. Why does Ram have to agree with his dad? He is wrong. Everybody is wrong. It is just not fair. "
(Me: Manya those were the days when the kids followed the parents' word without a question. There was absolute obedience - no ifs and buts"
"I think that's pretty dumb. Anybody can be wrong. You love your parents but you don't have to follow them if they are wrong. I would never leave all my jewels behind and go to the forest. And why does Sita have to go? If I was Sita, I would just take my jewels and go back to my parents' home."
(I was itching to start a conversation about satyug and kalyug but decided to park it for another day - kalyug is here to stay ;))
"Why are all the men top naked - what do they do in winters. How much can all those necklaces keep them warm? In the summers do the jewels on the bare skin cause rashes?"
(Sita apharan)
"This is ridiculous. Ram is such a useless husband - if he has all these powers, why can't he just give some to Sita so she can protect herself."
"How can drawing a line around Sita help?"
"Why is Sita so powerless - why can't she fight for herself? How come no woman has special powers? Why are only men fighting and women crying?"
"Why does Ravan need another wife when he already has a wife? Does getting more wives make you richer? Don't you marry for love? Then how can he force Sita?"
"Mom, the animations and graphics are not so realistic - everythign looks a bit fake. They need to make a new one."
Yes, they do!
Phew, I will keep you posted as we progress with the epic. Till then wish me luck as we grapple with allegories and metaphors and even unquestionable logic!
(PS As we were having these conversations, I was reminded of a conversation around Ramayana that I had exacty a decade ago with my then four year old nephew that I documented here. Maybe deep analytical skills, when it comes to mythology and epics and stories, run in the family ;).
