Shweta Ganesh Kumar's Blog
June 18, 2013
Continuing in this week's focus on grandparents, the times of Amma now reveals the secret behind the grandparents boundless energy.
That energy which every parent yearns for as their toddler puts the energizer bunny to shame through sunny afternoons and late into wee hours of the night.
That energy that grandparents whip out as they play elephant and house and racing car and pretend cycling with your little one.Well, scratch your head no more, for that's because
Grandparents are ...
Note the grandparent halo!
... The exact same age as your child. After all, they become grandparents at the same moment that their grandchild makes an entry into this world.
You on the other hand suddenly find yourself saddled with an actual baby and grown ups who are no more the adults they once were.
Come fellow parents, jump into my boat and let's paddle this stream of pathetic exhaustion together.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
That energy which every parent yearns for as their toddler puts the energizer bunny to shame through sunny afternoons and late into wee hours of the night.
That energy that grandparents whip out as they play elephant and house and racing car and pretend cycling with your little one.Well, scratch your head no more, for that's because
Grandparents are ...
Note the grandparent halo! ... The exact same age as your child. After all, they become grandparents at the same moment that their grandchild makes an entry into this world.
You on the other hand suddenly find yourself saddled with an actual baby and grown ups who are no more the adults they once were.
Come fellow parents, jump into my boat and let's paddle this stream of pathetic exhaustion together.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 17, 2013
So, this past weekend we had both sets of grandparents under one roof and one very happy baby.
And one happy mother who only had to occasionally step in an attempt to enforce some semblance of discipline.
Not that it worked, the force of two doting grandfathers and two indulgent grandmothers is the great wall of protectiveness around the toddler against the puny stream of reason that the mother is.
Which brings me to part I on the series, "Grandparents are"
Inspired by the popular comics, "Love is", this week's focus is exclusively on grandparents!
Grandparents are...
... the same people who told you that there was no way you were going to eat a teeny piece of chocolate before lunch when you were a kid and happily dole out bars and bars of the stuff to your kid, just before nutritious meals of any kind.
Sigh.
Check back tomorrow on what else 'Grandparents are...'
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
And one happy mother who only had to occasionally step in an attempt to enforce some semblance of discipline.
Not that it worked, the force of two doting grandfathers and two indulgent grandmothers is the great wall of protectiveness around the toddler against the puny stream of reason that the mother is.
Which brings me to part I on the series, "Grandparents are"
Inspired by the popular comics, "Love is", this week's focus is exclusively on grandparents!
Grandparents are...
... the same people who told you that there was no way you were going to eat a teeny piece of chocolate before lunch when you were a kid and happily dole out bars and bars of the stuff to your kid, just before nutritious meals of any kind.
Sigh.
Check back tomorrow on what else 'Grandparents are...'
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 13, 2013
They say that babies learn our language as they grow.
But more often than not, it is us who learn what their words and gestures mean.
Today's post is all about a few of the frequently used words in our household.Of course, there are the usual bow-bow, moo and cockakoo and the like.
Today's focus is on food
related words or Maa- mum sounds.
Iddi for the humble Idli
Kaddakka for the crunchy Pappadam
Kkcch for salt
Kocchlate for chocolate
Gayake for cake
And my personal favourite Udduu for Laddoo
More soon!I hope you too have a babble and nap filled weekend! See you on the other side :)
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
But more often than not, it is us who learn what their words and gestures mean.
Today's post is all about a few of the frequently used words in our household.Of course, there are the usual bow-bow, moo and cockakoo and the like.
Today's focus is on food
related words or Maa- mum sounds.
Iddi for the humble Idli
Kaddakka for the crunchy Pappadam
Kkcch for salt
Kocchlate for chocolate
Gayake for cake
And my personal favourite Udduu for Laddoo
More soon!I hope you too have a babble and nap filled weekend! See you on the other side :)
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 12, 2013
I don't remember the last time I set an alarm.
I haven't needed one since Dec 2011. My daughter has been more than happy to do the honors since then.
In the early days, I'd wake up to bawling loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.
Come Moon and stars or Sun, baby will bawl and bawl
Nowadays things are usually a bit more civilized.
Sometimes she wakes me up by sitting on my head.
Amma's head is just where I want to sit at 6 in the morning.
Sometimes by opening my spectacles case, taking the glasses out and poking me in the eye.
Wear your glasses and wake up you blind bat!
And ever since she was gifted a kitchen set by my Father, by making me two fresh cups of make-believe coffee.
Kaapi! Kaapi!
Nothing makes waking up worth it like two bright eyes, a toothy smile and some make-believe Kaapi.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
I haven't needed one since Dec 2011. My daughter has been more than happy to do the honors since then.
In the early days, I'd wake up to bawling loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.
Come Moon and stars or Sun, baby will bawl and bawlNowadays things are usually a bit more civilized.
Sometimes she wakes me up by sitting on my head.
Amma's head is just where I want to sit at 6 in the morning.Sometimes by opening my spectacles case, taking the glasses out and poking me in the eye.
Wear your glasses and wake up you blind bat!And ever since she was gifted a kitchen set by my Father, by making me two fresh cups of make-believe coffee.
Kaapi! Kaapi!Nothing makes waking up worth it like two bright eyes, a toothy smile and some make-believe Kaapi.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 11, 2013
I've written before about Mothers as the unknown superheroes that live silently amongst us- making the world a better place a day at a time.
Now I might have written about being a superhero, but I rarely feel like one. Most days as I juggle work, home and my almost one and a half year old baby, it's hard to feel like a superhuman let alone a normal human. Most days I just feel like the worn out dry husk of a coconut shell.But then there are days like this one when my daughter comes running towards me from the verandah where she is playing with her grandmother screaming bee beee.I imagine this.
No, that is not a radioactive bee. I just don't have a yellow sketch pen
Which in reality is just this.
The common house fly
She cowers behind her grandmother as I approach the villain sitting on a chair.I adopt a superwoman swagger and aim some karate punches and Kung- fu panda moves at the fly. The fly nonchalantly flies away. I'm sure I heard a faint derisive laugh as well.Meanwhile my daughter claps and gurgles with joy as I save the day and her from the "bee"
Today, I feel like I truly am a superhero.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
Now I might have written about being a superhero, but I rarely feel like one. Most days as I juggle work, home and my almost one and a half year old baby, it's hard to feel like a superhuman let alone a normal human. Most days I just feel like the worn out dry husk of a coconut shell.But then there are days like this one when my daughter comes running towards me from the verandah where she is playing with her grandmother screaming bee beee.I imagine this.
No, that is not a radioactive bee. I just don't have a yellow sketch penWhich in reality is just this.
The common house flyShe cowers behind her grandmother as I approach the villain sitting on a chair.I adopt a superwoman swagger and aim some karate punches and Kung- fu panda moves at the fly. The fly nonchalantly flies away. I'm sure I heard a faint derisive laugh as well.Meanwhile my daughter claps and gurgles with joy as I save the day and her from the "bee"
Today, I feel like I truly am a superhero.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 10, 2013
As we move closer and closer to the one and a half year mark, more and more words are being added to the arsenal. A detailed post on that is coming up soon.
But today, a little about what's in a name.
My daughter's name is Indrani Shweta Sagar.
The last name is her dad's name.
The middle name mine - as I'm the one who did the carrying around for 10 months and subsequently delivering thing. No biggie, but I'm getting my name there as well. So therefore a middle name.
And her first name is one that I had chosen even before we got married. I saw it for the first time, inscribed in malayalam, beneath an ancient stone at Madayikkavu - a temple bequeathed to the Mother Goddess
A name that means the Goddess of the sky and insight. She is the lightning bolt of insight which destroys the powers of ignorance and lifts us beyond the skies.
Indrani is part of a group of seven mother goddesses called the Matrikas who are considered shaktis of major Hindu gods.The Matrikas were existent as early as the Vedic period and the Indus Valley civilization. Coins with rows of seven feminine deities or priestesses are cited as evidence for the theory. The Matrikas pre-date Hinduism, are Dravidian and celebrate the cult of the female principle.
It's a weighty heritage we've bequeathed to our daughter, which is probably why this is what she says when we ask her what her name is.
Aana in malayalam and a couple of other South Indian languages means
A weighty name too.As the bard said, 'What's in a name?'
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
But today, a little about what's in a name.
My daughter's name is Indrani Shweta Sagar.
The last name is her dad's name.
The middle name mine - as I'm the one who did the carrying around for 10 months and subsequently delivering thing. No biggie, but I'm getting my name there as well. So therefore a middle name.
And her first name is one that I had chosen even before we got married. I saw it for the first time, inscribed in malayalam, beneath an ancient stone at Madayikkavu - a temple bequeathed to the Mother Goddess
A name that means the Goddess of the sky and insight. She is the lightning bolt of insight which destroys the powers of ignorance and lifts us beyond the skies.
Indrani is part of a group of seven mother goddesses called the Matrikas who are considered shaktis of major Hindu gods.The Matrikas were existent as early as the Vedic period and the Indus Valley civilization. Coins with rows of seven feminine deities or priestesses are cited as evidence for the theory. The Matrikas pre-date Hinduism, are Dravidian and celebrate the cult of the female principle.
It's a weighty heritage we've bequeathed to our daughter, which is probably why this is what she says when we ask her what her name is.
Aana in malayalam and a couple of other South Indian languages means
A weighty name too.As the bard said, 'What's in a name?'
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 9, 2013
My seventeen-month old daughter loves water.
She loves splashing in puddles.
Making puddles from the bowls of water we give her to float her paper boats and then capsizing these boats.
Opening bottles of water and drenching everything around her.
Getting wet in the rain.
But the only kind of water she hates is the kind that we prepare for her bath. Be it a shower or a bucket - this is how she reacts.
She even opens the cupboard and totters towards us with clothes in her hand, thrusting it as us, as if she'd rather we change her clothes than go the whole hog and bathe her.I'm at my wits end and I sadly think of the days when she splashed about a like a little merchild in the tub back in El Salvador. What on earth was making her so anti-bath now, while she still clearly loves water?And then it dawns on me!We're missing one vital ingredient for a happy bath!
We miss you Da-Da! Come soon so that I don't end up as a dust-encrusted ragamuffin instead of your sweet smelling munchkin :)
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
She loves splashing in puddles.
Making puddles from the bowls of water we give her to float her paper boats and then capsizing these boats.
Opening bottles of water and drenching everything around her.
Getting wet in the rain.
But the only kind of water she hates is the kind that we prepare for her bath. Be it a shower or a bucket - this is how she reacts.
She even opens the cupboard and totters towards us with clothes in her hand, thrusting it as us, as if she'd rather we change her clothes than go the whole hog and bathe her.I'm at my wits end and I sadly think of the days when she splashed about a like a little merchild in the tub back in El Salvador. What on earth was making her so anti-bath now, while she still clearly loves water?And then it dawns on me!We're missing one vital ingredient for a happy bath!
We miss you Da-Da! Come soon so that I don't end up as a dust-encrusted ragamuffin instead of your sweet smelling munchkin :)
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 5, 2013
So the handful of readers I have for the Times Of Amma have been writing in asking why the columns have gotten smaller and smaller in length.
This is why.
If you have a baby who is not even one and a half years old and she specializes in clambering onto pieces of furniture certainly not meant for climbing, or onto the high rungs of the grills of the balcony or onto the kitchen slab, come let us sob together.
Parents whose children are now beyond that stage, do spare a prayer for us.
And child-free folk, now you know why we still haven't replied to your comments or emails or called you back.
Even three sets of arms and eyes are not enough to contain the Spider-Baby!
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
This is why.
If you have a baby who is not even one and a half years old and she specializes in clambering onto pieces of furniture certainly not meant for climbing, or onto the high rungs of the grills of the balcony or onto the kitchen slab, come let us sob together.
Parents whose children are now beyond that stage, do spare a prayer for us.
And child-free folk, now you know why we still haven't replied to your comments or emails or called you back.
Even three sets of arms and eyes are not enough to contain the Spider-Baby!
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 3, 2013
I seem to be involved in far too many car-related accidents lately.
Why, just today morning I was the victim of a rather brutal hit and run.There I was snuggled up under the bed covers, lost in my dreamworld when suddenly, my eyes flew open in protest as something metallic rammed into my left shoulder.
As I slowly sat up, it happened again. This time I managed to see the culprit.
A silver car, hurtling through thin air banged into my shoulder with great deliberation and force, twice in quick succession after which it sped away to far end of the bed accompanied by loud Vroom- vroom sounds.
Motherhood - the only time a hit and run leaves you battered and chuckling.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
Why, just today morning I was the victim of a rather brutal hit and run.There I was snuggled up under the bed covers, lost in my dreamworld when suddenly, my eyes flew open in protest as something metallic rammed into my left shoulder.
As I slowly sat up, it happened again. This time I managed to see the culprit.
A silver car, hurtling through thin air banged into my shoulder with great deliberation and force, twice in quick succession after which it sped away to far end of the bed accompanied by loud Vroom- vroom sounds.
Motherhood - the only time a hit and run leaves you battered and chuckling.
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
June 2, 2013
'Baaa Boiiii!' 'Baaaa Boiiiii!'
The shouts ring out loudly and indignantly and as clearly as a baby drawl can be.
I abandon my book and run to the verandah where my seventeen month old daughter was playing with her grandparents. The last few shrieks had been of joy. Why the sudden change in mood?
On the verandah, all three of them are scowling at somebody in the next compound. But it's my baby who is enraged!
All balled up fists and stomping feet and 'Baa Boiiii'
'She's saying bad boy!' My dad explains. They were sitting there enjoying the friendly squirrels run up and down the tree, when a man came up and started cutting it. 'Construction' he mumbled when asked why.
My father had merely told her that the tree was going 'bye-bye and that a bad man was cutting the tree' when my baby launched off with the yells.
Baaa Boii!!!
C'mon now people! Haven't we cut enough trees already? Do we really need a baby to call us baa boiis and goils and to point out that this is just madness?How many more trees have to die as we rush headlong in the pursuit of so-called development?
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
The shouts ring out loudly and indignantly and as clearly as a baby drawl can be.
I abandon my book and run to the verandah where my seventeen month old daughter was playing with her grandparents. The last few shrieks had been of joy. Why the sudden change in mood?
On the verandah, all three of them are scowling at somebody in the next compound. But it's my baby who is enraged!
All balled up fists and stomping feet and 'Baa Boiiii'
'She's saying bad boy!' My dad explains. They were sitting there enjoying the friendly squirrels run up and down the tree, when a man came up and started cutting it. 'Construction' he mumbled when asked why.
My father had merely told her that the tree was going 'bye-bye and that a bad man was cutting the tree' when my baby launched off with the yells.
Baaa Boii!!!C'mon now people! Haven't we cut enough trees already? Do we really need a baby to call us baa boiis and goils and to point out that this is just madness?How many more trees have to die as we rush headlong in the pursuit of so-called development?
Click here for previous issues of The Times Of Amma- the motherhood bulletin with badly-drawn cartoons
