4 book reviews

Normally, when I go to the library to pick up books for Winkie, I do not go with a pre-decided list. It is usually a spontaneous affair based on certain developing criteria...

The ones that usually catch my fancy first are the ones with the animal themes. I just enjoy the creative storytelling that uses friendly garrulous animals to kindle your own thoughts. Next, I usually clue in on the ones that have beautiful illustrations, regardless of content. (Well content gets a cursory glance of course, but the illustrations sell it for me.) And lastly, the title and the subject. But that's always at the end.

One might wonder where Akhil's choices figure in all of this......well, I tried giving him a free rein, but somehow, he always ended up at the Spanish shelves, pulling out title after title that I would never be able to read. If that isn't a valid enough reason to assert my own autonomy in the matter, then the fact that he enjoys every book I have thrust on him so far will have to do!

Anyways yesterday, during one such random hunt, we got extremely lucky. So much so, that I simply have to gush about it.

Book Review 1 : Brave Bear by Kathy Mallet

Wow! If ever any book simply speaks through pictures from page to page with just a few words thrown in here and there for added punch, this has to be it! Its about a brave little bear who sees a baby bird fall down from its nest upon a tall tree. The bird is hurt and doesn't know to fly as yet. The bear steps in to help, and conquers his fear of heights and climbing, to restore the bird back to its home.

Now what makes this story all the more special for me and Winkie is that it helped me to teach him something important at a very opportune time. Lately he's been driving me crazy with his oft repeated phrase, "I cannot do it." He replies with this to everything asked of him, and I know not whether it indicates a defeatist attitude or simple laziness, but I have often struggled on how to counter that statement.

This book today afforded us that chance. For when the brave bear saw how tall the tree was and wondered to himself, can I do it, I helped Winkie identify himself with that bear, and we breathlessly turned to the next page to see the bear say with decision...Well, I shall try! And try he does, to safely deposit the baby bird back to the safety of its nest.

Now whether, Winkie actually learnt a lesson there or not, I cannot say, but it sure was a different way to say what I'd been saying to him all this while.

Book Review 2 : Ba Ba Sheep Wouldn't go to Sleep by Dennis Panek

The storyline is evident from the title. A playful sheep stays up way past his bedtime and spends the night building train tracks and bridges and block towers only to have them attacked by dinosaurs. When at last he decides he'd like to rest a bit, Mamma comes into the room to announce that its morning and time to get ready for school. Ba Ba gets ready wearily, can hardly manage his breakfast, and at school has trouble keeping up with the rest of the class. He falls asleep in the park on the slide, snoozes his way through his favorite storytime, and has no fun during lunch break in the cafeteria. He comes home tired and unable to even manage dinner, he excuses himself and goes to his room. There he finally gives in to the soft pillows, the warm blanket and cosy bed and falls into a gentle sleep.

I enjoyed this book for the way it teaches the importance of sleep and rest through simple consequences that follow missing a night's slumber. No Mamma or Papa intoning the strictures of sleep....no arguements and sullen faces....only simple actions and thier consequences. It is reflective of the ideal mix of parenting which should consist of firm and loving action in place of too much telling and yelling.

Book Review 3 : A place to grow by Soyung Pak

A sweetly sentimental book in which a young immigrant father explains to his daughter through beautiful allegory, the importance for a seed to find a safe place to grow sheltered from harsh conditions of nature and life. He says that it is no place for that seed to blossom into a flower, and you are simply drawn to the beautiful way in which he tells his daughter the story of their life.

This book is perhaps out of Winkie's league right now, but I enjoyed it tremendously.

Book Review 4 : Wild about books by Judy Sierra

I saved the best for last. This book is fun fun fun all the way from start to end. A mobile book librarian drives the van right into the local zoo, and it seems she has a design in mind. She gets out, sets up a table and chair and starts reading her favorite book. The curious animals come forward one by one to see what the big fuss is all about and end up getting lost in the world of books!! Some of them are so inspired that they start authoring books themselves and what's more.....begin to write haikus, which is severely critiqued by the stinging words of the local scorpion. And all this and more written in rhyming verse, to make it more delightful and ticklish! Like I said, fun fun fun with a flourish!

Parenting....a spiritual experience..

With 4 more months left to go until I can expect the birth of my second child, I often lapse into a state of worry and thought-induced-stress. I tend to start thinking about all those sleep-deprived nights that I will have to spend once again in tending to the basic needs of this baby.

I know that I will take everything upon myself, hating to wake my husband who will have to face a full day at work or my mother who definitely needs her rest. And ensnared in the web of these anxious thoughts, I worry that it is going to be winter, and hence a time for colds and fevers and infections. I imagine being caught up between diaper changes and feedings and comforting an extremely cranky toddler back to the comfort of sleep, only to repeat the whole process again. And I will be the first one to greet the morning, after a long and lonely night.

These thoughts scare me no end....the physical challenges of dealing with a newborn. I have always been so eccentric about getting enough sleep, and that I cannot be a good mother without it. How then will I function during those months and after, I wonder despairingly.

In the midst of my intense rumination......from a place forgotten, a voice bubbles to the periphery of my erstwhile thoughts, straining to be heard.....relax.....calm down.....loosen yourself from the grip of your mind....

Somehow I find the strength to heed. I let it take over and quiet a bit.....through the voice I see what I have missed seeing all along....that for every type of perception there is in this world, there is at least one other better way to see it yet. I begin to understand that what has to be faced, has to be faced. But it can be faced with grace and a calm strength. And that grace and strength is acquired through constant discipline, which has to be acquired now when there is still time to prepare.

I will have to fortify myself through the power of prayer, practice of gentle thought and meditation, and build up all my reserves, such that when I need it, it aids me in quick succession.

I also remember the power and beauty of service. This I have yet to practice fully in my life, but that opportunity is ever present in each day that is born, and it is presenting itself once more 4 months down the line. One might think, what is the big service in caring for your own child....your own flesh and blood....but I am coming to understand that if this care is approached in the spirit of service, it can be a most divine experience.

In my experience as a parent so far, I have faced the difficulty of putting my child's needs and wants before my own. This is very difficult in the practice of everyday life. Setting aside my own book, or time on the PC in preference to reading Akhil his book or playing with him......hanging up on an interesting conversation with a friend, and listening to him instead....reading a favorite book for the 100th time in a row(!!!!), putting on his Preeti Sagar rhymes tape on, instead of my latest CD that I have been dying to listen to......trying to get him to bed fast so I can sneak back downstairs and watch a movie on a weekend night.....getting annoyed with his fussiness at night and irritable because of my broken sleep.....there have been too many instances to count.

That is what is making me realise now.....that if I choose to look at it in a different way.....child-bearing and parenting can be an intensely spiritual experience.....it is truly about dedicating your life to make better, the life of another. It is about investing your love, thoughts and deeds to the shaping of another and enabling him to tread the path of love through your own gentle example. It is akin to taking his innate nature (his karma) and nurturing it with care to help him realise good deeds and good thoughts in this present life.

Is it not a wonder then what a big responsibility we are all shouldering as parents? Is it not all the more important then that we remain ever aware of this duty, and live our lives in Consciousness of this truth?

The answer..

Well...we got our answer.

Yesterday as planned. The wait ended and so did the mystery. I think all the fireworks and explosions happened inside my head, for the world around moved as ever before!!

For a long time before the ultrasound, I had wanted this baby to be a girl. One of each sex, and a peep into both kinds of worlds sounded perfect. I even unwittingly picked a name that I thought sounded like just the thing. Then, the whole of last week, my mind spinned on the other possibility. I felt acute delight at an imaginary picture of Winkie and his little brother rough-housing together. Maybe it was my subconscious way of preparing to be happy at either outcome.

[I know I could cut right to the chase and spill it! But no news is exciting without the proper build-up and I want this one opportunity to commit it all to memory in words.]

I woke up at 7:00 (early enough given a Saturday) but I could sleep no longer. I enjoyed my coffee watching the fog unfurling outside. It was very peaceful. I enjoyed all the moments that stretched out before me, knowing that the ancitipation was one of the best parts, apart of the actual event. So...I felt no impatience.

At 10:00 I started downing those 32 oz of water as I had been instructed, knowing I wouldn't be able to use the bathroom until after the procedure. I thought it was pretty doable, but it wasn't. By the time we reached there and I walked to the front desk to check in, it was acute agony. But they assured me the technician was ready and waiting to whisk me inside, so I bore on. She appeared within a few minutes and we were in the little dark room with all the machines and monitor and of course a place for me to lie down.

We got started, and it was underway, when I realised I hadn't conveyed to her that we were open to finding out the sex. So I told her and then went back to watching the screen. It was a regular 2D ultrasound and the baby was awake and moving around a lot. She pointed out different things she saw, like the placenta and the baby's hands and stomach. 5 minutes into the ultrasound, she paused and said, "Are you guys ready? Cos I know what you are having."

Just like the last time, we both paused and looked at each other. Didn't say a word for a few seconds. Then I said, "Alright, what is it?"

"Its a boy," she said simply.

I took it in with a bubbling sense of excitement. That was my first reaction. She pointed out to what gave it all away and yup...there it was. Hubby had spotted it at the same time as her and had figured out a few seconds earlier than her pronouncement.

And then, we moved on. Like I said earlier, the fireworks were all inside my head! She concentrated on doing her measurements, and I watched the screen, eager to stay in the moment, but my thoughts led me away.

After the initial euphoria of finding out, my heart assimilated the aftermath of my feelings. I felt, in just one word (that I will never again use with reference to my child)....disappointed.

I never realised how much I had counted on this baby being a girl, until that road was terminally closed to me. It hurt.....very much. I knew that I wouldn't be going for another pregnancy, and this really was the last time I had that chance. And now, it was over. It really hurt.

I also felt deep remorse at feeling this way while this child was growing inside me. I didn't want it to receive any of these vibrations from me, and yet I had to feel a little bit of what was real before I moved on. But all that came later. For now, I dragged myself back to the present and didn't want to miss any of the ongoing action, while lost in thought.

She continued her scan. The baby....this little little boy was moving around so much that she was having a hard time pinning him down long enough to take some of the measurements. "He's moving like a madman!" she exclaimed. The 'he' sounded so sure and pleasant to my ears. It really was nice to know.

We saw his bladder, his little heart (the beats measured 146 then and he weighed in at 13oz at this point), his little rounded spine, his big big head....it was almost over when she asked us if we wanted some 3D pictures of the little guy. She added that they were free. Well, good for that, cos we, of course, said yes.

She said she'd try her best and work fast with him because he was a squirmer. The first picture she got of him was a worthy attempt, for he seemed to sport a rather goofy smile. I wasn't sure it was a smile, but she also thought it was. Perhaps he was already getting a kick out of duping me! :)

The rest of the pictures were not that much better, thanks to his constant moving. We settled for that, and a short (you blink and you miss) video clip of him moving inside, on a CD and started for home.

Enroute, I had already updated two of my friends who I knew would be waiting for my call and also A & A who now owe me a treat. The rest of the day...I spent in a maze of my own thoughts.

The fact remained. I was sad that I wouldn't be having a girl. I was sad that I wouldn't be dressing her up in pretty clothes or tying up her hair in ponies and clips. Fast forwarded several years into the distant future, I felt sad that my daugthers-in-law would prefer having thier own mother for thier childbirth, than me. I felt sadness at having to let go of that name that was so beautiful to my ears....Akshara, the indestructible soul. (Akhil and Akshara, no more.)I felt sadness at never having the chance to bask in the special love of a daughter....the love and warmth that I gave to my own parents. I surrounded myself with all the possibilities that were no more. It was pathetic.

Soon enough I tired myself out in this vein and the incurable optimist in me begged to take over. I thought about how I had saved each and every bit of Akhil's clothing, in anticipation of this very possibility. They could grow up sharing the same room and sleep on bunk beds. The image of that was a cause for cheer. I thought about how Akhil would help potty train his brother, and the little guy would proudly model his elder brother. Perhaps, same sex kids would end up being the best of playmates after all, and share in themselves even during their adolescent years. And it should be an interesting life with 3 men in the house!

And so on and so on.....until........I was all thought out! My father to whom I conveyed these feelings said to me, "Well, you can always adopt a girl, if you want to!" Now there's a positive thought, if any.

This morning, my spirits are soaring once more as I begin to keenly identify with this active little guy inside. I feel love and affection for him and I am lucky to already have one child outside to shower that love on. The next 20 weeks stretch out ahead, but there is abundant happiness in just taking it a day at a time, enjoying each and every moment left of this last pregnancy of mine, and devoting my love and focus singly on Akhil, before another little body, heart and mind lays its claims on me.

And on this note.....ends one big chapter in my life.....and another begins.

The half way mark...

I have made it to the half way mark in my pregnancy. 20 weeks and running. It was a challenging first trimester for me and I was glad to leave it behind and embrace the more active and energetic days of the second trimester, where I feel almost as normal as before.

The movements and mini-kicks have begun in full earnest and while earlier I felt very unconnected and removed from this baby, I now feel a faint sense of affection and bonding. The two of us are eagerly waiting for the day of the ultrasound (Saturday, the 23rd of September, 2006, 11:00 AM) and if we are lucky, we hope to find out amidst all other things, whether this baby is a boy or a girl.

I remember it being an unbearable wait to see Akhil's first picture.......it was all I could do to get through each day. The actual event was a simple 20 minute process and I shall never forget the technician's words when she said...."Oh wait a min.....I know what you guys are having." And she paused there deliberately filling the gap with her teasing smile.......

"It looks like its going to be a boy!"

I don't remember what we said then.....but I can still feel our goofy smiles as we looked at each other and beamed in a silly way.

We may have recovered a moment later to ask...."Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah! 99% and I'm usually never wrong abt these things. Look, you can see his little peepee."

And she was kind enough to give us a little printout of the evidence, with a little arrow mark pointed at it and titling it 'I'm a boy!'

Now with God's grace and blessings, we have this opportunity once more to feel that little spark of excitement that sends our hearts pulsing for a quick moment, before our brains process the information and things settle.

So.....5 days and counting!

A little quirk...

Winkie has this little quirk, that I know not what to make of it.

He likes to sleep with something in his hand.

No, I don't mean like a teddy bear or a blanket or any of the soft and cute stuff......but other things that catch his fancy on any particular day.

For a long time it was his fDVD (f=favorite). The top 3 runners-up for this big privilege were The Lion King, Chicken Little and The Polar Express. I absolutely couldn't stand this because to me, it showed an addiction to TV which I have tried hard to avoid in him.

Now thankfully the FDVD stage is past. He has resorted to books and I am at peace again. I like to think fondly of words of wisdom washing over him as he recharges his batteries every night. (Last night, the wise words were from the Panchatantra....advice when most needed is least heeded, from the 'The Donkey who would sing').

Tonight, the setting has changed yet again. To keep him cosy company under the warm covers for a good 10 hours are his cricket bat and ball!

Now I desist from making any cliched conclusions on this one! Though I suspect it has secretly delighted his Dad no end!

_ _ _ is coming out!

I had a quick errand to run this evening. Winkie was of course with me while I was at it. Once I got done and we were getting back into the car, he tried his usual tactics to get into the front seat. I quickly grabbed him and bundled him in to the car seat and belted him hurriedly, all the while ignoring his loud voiced protests and wriggling.

Once safe and restrained, I got into my own seat and we started back home. We had just reached the first signal (it was a 3 block ride back home), when he started protesting in his best whiner......'Bum is coming out...bum is coming out'...

My irritation mounted. I figured one of the little toys he always keeps handy was stuck in his seat, with him perched on it. I cursed myself for not clearing out his seat before seating him.

His voice got louder and louder and I tried harder to block him out and concentrate on driving, all the while belting out instructions to him...Reach behind your bum with your hands and take out your toy......and don't say bum is coming out, just say that something is poking your bum, okay Akhil?

Winkie had by now degenerated into outright wailing at the top of his lungs....bum is coming out, in all different pitches and blends.

I breathed a sigh of relief at navigating us safely back home. Once parked, I quickly went over to get him out of the seat and put us both out of misery. I was waiting to discover which of his toys had escaped my notice and was guilty for this incident.

To my surprise there was none. I was now thoroughly irritated with him for the whole charade and glared at him. His voice reduced to a whimper while crying out the same thing....bum is coming out...

In exasperation I turned him around to find that his pants had pulled down to a sort of mid-level to expose a big part of his little tushie. In my hurry to belt him in, I hadn't noticed this at all.

What can I say except that a huge sense of remorse, chagrin and apology for all my earlier feelings came rushing over me. Here was yet another situation where I hadn't given him the benefit of a doubt, and reacted to him based on my own conclusions.

We had a good nice hug and kiss session, I tried to make it up to him with all the sincerety in my heart, he wallowed just a bit longer in his self-sympathy....and I indulged him.

All is really well that ends well.

How to touch the moon

On most nights before going to bed, Winkie sometimes likes me to turn off the lights and open the windows so we can do some moon-watching together. We try and spot where the moon is hiding that particular night, and whether it is full, half or crescent. Sometimes, he likes to climb into bed and keep watching the moon as sleep gently claims him, and sometimes.....we draw the curtains back and just enjoy the darkness.

On one such occasion when we watched the moon from bed, he wondered where the sun was. The answer was simple....when the moon comes up, the sun goes down and when the sun comes up...the moon goes down.

This was a very important revelation for him. He chewed on it and repeated it many times before falling asleep.

This evening, as hubby was working late, it was already dark when we set off for the train station to pick him. It was a full moon night, and a clear sky. I had the sun roof open, so Winkie could look out and spot his moon as we drove along. We talked a little...

(Winkie) : Amma, can I touch the moon?

I was about to say that it wasn't possible as the moon was so far away, but stopped myself and said instead...Sure, why don't you try to do that?

He leaned forward extending his hands upwards, his seat belt restraining him.

(Winkie) : Amma, I can't reach it.

(Me) : Oh? Why can't you reach it Akhil?

(Winkie) : Because the trees are hiding the moon.

Fair enough, I thought to myself.

We stopped at a traffic light just then. We had just passed a grove of tall trees, and the moon was in clear sight once more.

(Me) : Well, you can see the moon now. Why don't you touch it....

Again, he leans forward and reaches his hands upwards and out......its still too hard. He leans back in his seat and says...the moon is too far away Amma.

Bingo!

(Me) : Aww...that's too bad. So what do we do now?

(Winkie) : We will bring the moon down and I'll catch it.

Sounded like a plan...

(Me) : How will you bring the moon down?

(Winkie after a short pause) : When the sun comes up, the moon will come down. Then I catch it!

Now THAT's what I call STRATEGY!

The winds of change...

....are happening slowly, but surely. The gentle breezes of growing-up are caressing our lives and altering existing patterns of our everyday cycles.

I am embracing this in the daily conversations with my son and, while it stirs no overflow of emotions, it still leaves me in a quiet wonder and with a smile derived from a pure moment.

Such that at the end of the day, when the activity of the mind dwindles to a sweet lull, I sit down and look back on the words I heard and the expressions that formed on the face and mind of a little boy....

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Breakfast table in the morning : Amma, what did you cook for lunch today, he asks.

I look up surprised......this really is a first, I think. He's never asked me this question before, in the tone that I hear, with an expression that is so questioning and steady.

For just a wee moment, I forget the number that is his age and feel a simple thread of equality between us.....the moment passes and I reply to his question with specifics.

He looks thoughtful for a little longer than a wee moment before piping up innocuously....can I waste it?

I stumble out of my reverie and back into reality and unconvincingly explain to him that wasting is not a choice that he has, and that he needs to finish it down to the last morsel, otw his tummy is going to hurt. (Even as I say this I realise how poorly orchestrated my words are.)

On my way to work, I still think about what I heard. I can't help but remember this one post of mine many months ago on how he viewed his lunchbox.

I smile at the thought of how a milestone is marked with a simple question.

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It is 1:15 when I pick him up after school. Ms. Uma holds me back for a little chat and tells me...he is quite in charge of things now!

Really? I ask with a smile....and how is that?

During lunchtime, he gets his own bag, opens it and takes out his box, opens the lid and sets it in the microwave for heating, and then takes out his own yoghurt and spoons and starts eating.

Another little first. We both marvel at how 6 months mark the onset of new patterns in his independence. In my inner recesses, I think of how his act of accomplishing something gives us both the sense of accomplishment too. We are all partaking in this intangible treat.

On our way home, I travel back the timeline and remember this scenario.....

I smile at the thought of how a milestone is marked with a simple act....

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It is almost time for bed....we have caught the onset of sniffles, with many a sneeze thrown in liberally and I remember to give him an ayurvedic tonic to try and stop it in its tracks....

He waits patiently, watching on as his father measures out the dosage.....I look on and inevitably, look back....(it seems to be a day of reminiscences...)

Early days when we used a little syringe to push the medicine unceremoniously down his little puckered mouth.....blocking one of his nostrils and blowing into his mouth to make him instinctively swallow the liquid.....fast forwarded to more violent struggles....spooning out the medicine in secrecy, luring him into my arms and then straddling his body beneath my legs, his father holding tightly onto his hands, while I force the dosage back into his unwilling throat.....only to have him stand up and puke it all out alongwith his last puny meal.

Now he waits patiently by his father's side. When the 1 tsp mark has been reached, he takes the little cup in his hands and sips gingerly, bit by bit until it has all but left the cup....then he generously offers to lick the last few drops clean.

I cannot but smile at the thought of how a milestone is marked with the singular lack of an effort.

The other Appa...

Winkie was playing with his little train this morning. Running it over the tracks to the steady sounds of chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk....

Hubby walked past him just then. Bye Appa, he called out loudly...

Bye Akhil, he replied, smiling.

No no, not this Appa, corrected the little station master. I am saying bye-bye to Appa inside the train.

Oh right! Sorry buddy...my bad!