Eight.

So yesterday was Winkie's 8th birthday. And probably the first time ever that I didn't hit publish at the stroke of midnight on a birthday post. But then, this is the new me. The relaxed, I-am-not-in-a-hurry-to-blog-it-all me! :) And I rather like it. For it makes the times when I do feel like writing about them, that much more enjoyable. Like right now.

The boys are out cycling with their Dad. Dinner's cooked and ready once they return. And I have nothing else pressing or that I cannot relegate to a later time. So this is the moment. And going with the birthday tradition of years past, it will be in the form of a letter to my son, who has hung around for 8 meaningful years!

Dearest Winkie....

Yesterday we celebrated your birthday. I know you are always going to be remember it in your own way, and through your own words, which maybe I will publish here if you sit down long enough to write, but for the sake of sentiment and posterity, I'd like to remember it again too.

It was fun, wasn't it? Sure, things are always more rose-tintedly fun on hindsight, but it was fun! It wasn't perfect in execution, given the short term planning, but the way it turned out was perfect, given exactly the short term planning. The idea was born in my head the evening of the 13th. By then, I had already started gathering little presents for you, and I started thinking of how we could give it to you. We could stack it all together in a nice little mound and have you go at it. Or we could hide it in little places and have you find it. Or, better still, we could get the whole family involved in your treasure hunt and have them also on the edge of their seats as you raced to a nail biting finish. Aaaah! Yes! This last plan is so much better. But so little time! And 2 action packed evenings on the 13th and 14th as we took the train to downtown to meet your father there and hang out in the big city! I was almost going to cancel on the 14th plan, when Appa convinced me that I would have enough time on the train to think and write, and enough inspiration by the lake, in the 72 degree breeze of a perfectly beautiful summer evening. That did it for me. The prospect of creating some happiness in that setting, while you and Thambi played on the grass.

Of course, ideas are always more romantic as vapours in the head, than what actually takes place. Like for instance, how I could barely manage 3 uninterrupted minutes on the train, before you or Thambi would have your next fight and want me to negotiate. Or how the wind suddenly turned cold by the lakefront and made our heads feel heavy from the onslaught of it. And how we had to hurry off from there quite prematurely, and head back to the station to make the next train.

And how I slumped to bed exhausted and wondering how I would ever manage to pull it off, with coordinating with all the family overseas. But it happened. I managed to come up with the rhymes and riddles and sent them out with precise instructions on the 14th, so by 15th morning, most everyone was clued in. And your first clue was taped to a balloon by your bed. You saw it, but didn't read it, and came downstairs to ask me about it. I told you it had mystery, but you'd have to wait to explore it until your Dad and brother woke up and were ready to bear witness to the proceedings. Oh and filming it all, wouldn't have hurt too. And so, a good 1 and 1/2 hours later, you began. Rhymes and riddles, pointers and clues. You went from one to the next, following precise directions and enjoying the thrill of the hunt. Family were on call, waiting for the phone to ring, their riddle to give, on the screen in front of them. I think they enjoyed it too. The miles and distances shrunk, as they were actively involved in your search at different points of the timeline. And you spoke to each and everyone with excitement and anticipation, as their riddles also led you to unearth your little waiting gifts.

Allow me a small digression here. I recently finished reading 'The Last Lecture' by Randy Pausch. (For those who haven't read it yet or seen that video on youtube, now's the time!). In it he talks about the head fake or indirect learning, a football term. How you think you're learning one thing, but it actually points to something else. How your opponent may nod to one side, but actually mean the other side and is trying to throw you off in the process. Or something to that effect. Well, this whole process of a treasure hunt had its head fake too. While it was a fun expedition of using your brain cells and not knowing what was around the next bend, to me it was all about how you would get one more chance to bond with the family from this distance away. And how they would get a chance to be part of your orbit too. It was a way to get you to talk and communicate more, given your oftentimes reticent nature. And I think it helped to draw you out a little bit. And most of all, I hope you got that at these important junctures in your life, it is not things wrapped in colour and tinsel, but people who matter, whose wishes matter, whose blessings count. But if  that flew right past your head now, no worries. The way I figure it, we still have another 10 more years of being under the same roof, for it to be drilled in. And I can be quite the tiger mother on that count! :)

So by the time we finished that little game (not!) it was noon. A quick note for you to remember what presents you got : A herbie car from Thambi, A Kinetix bridge construction set from UK, the game 'Spot it' from grandparents, 'Kanoodle Solitaire' from an uncle and a set of stacking tops from your other grandparents. The final clue told you to use up all your tooth fairy dollars at the store. And you knew which store and for what. So that's where we headed after lunch at Dakshin. To get you a swanky new bike, a long time in coming from the bike we got you 4 years back. You rode it, turned it and braked it and everything was good to go. You also decided to name it Blazer! And even there, we tucked that finall riddle which told you that one more present was on its way to you in the mail. But more of that when it comes!


In the evening we lighted up eight candles on the cake and brought it to you. It wasn't a surprise, because Thambi, excited and eager, shouted it out to you and so you knew, but then it was obvious anyway, wasn't it? There wasn't a lot of elaborate design process this time, and we went with a simple cake of summer flip flops for the summer baby that you are! You blew on it, though I don't think you remembered to wish on anything, and then we bit into it and it was delicious!

At the end of that day, as I tucked you into bed, you told me you had had the best day of your life. That it was so much of fun with the treasure hunt, and so interesting a way to do it. I am glad you thought of all the riddles Amma, you said. I am glad I thought of it too Kanna. And gladder still that I pushed myself to do it, when I could have settled for the even simpler option. Life is certainly more flavorful, when peppered with extraordinary moments such as these, when you have an acute sensation of enjoying all that it has to offer. One such moment for me, I think will be this final picture (top). We were both standing outside the restaurant, waiting to go in, when you asked me to click one of you. Click my birthday picture Amma, you said, and posed very sweetly. That slight smile playing at the corner of your lips, is one of your rarer varieties. And you looked dashing and with such nicely groomed hair. And what I liked most was your taking charge of it. You decided the spot, the pose and even that a picture should be clicked. And this is the new you. One who is slowly taking over the reins of his life, and taking responsibility for his actions and taking charge of a situation with a quiet strength and aura of control. I love these new colours of you that emerge from your young boyhood self, and I am grateful indeed at the prospect of all the years that lie ahead to unearth them all, a benediction of the highest Grace.

Happy date birthday yesterday, and Happy Star Birthday tomorrow, my champ!

Lovingly and best-est-ly!
Amma.

Yearbook!

2nd grade may be remembered for many things out here....but it will go down in Winkie's history as the first year ever that he got his own yearbook!

Yes, it took me that long to order one for him at the end of a schoolyear, for that is how much of a non-school savvy Mom I have been. To have missed out on what is obviously a very looked-forward to school tradition for any kid....well it happened very naturally and year after year with us, because I just didn't *get* how important it was. Or what a small simple pleasure it is. And I may have just given it a miss this year too, had it not been for some mute sixth sense, that made me a wee bit more proactive and just in the nick of time, which can only be attributed to Divine Providence.

As expected, it was a last minute thing, because I did not order it when the forms came in. Nope. I thoughtlessly relegated all those school communications as non-important, and not concerning me, until yesterday when an email came, announcing that the last few copies were still available for those who wanted it. That's when a lightbulb flickered somewhere. But it was not until the next morning, that I felt compelled to do anything about it.

As I woke Winkie up this morning, I asked him what a yearbook was. Because I wasn't really sure. And the fellow who had been fast asleep a moment before, sprang up from bed and started explaining how a yearbook had pictures of everyone and how everyone signed it, and how he had never had one all these years of school and I swear I almost saw his eyes well up with tears. His serial number is 8 in class, and he portrayed the scene where all the numbers were called out one by one.....1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...and just as it came to 7, he would hold his breath and start wishing desperately that somehow, this time, his number would not be skipped. 7, 9...! And his heart would break just a little tiny sliver of a piece and mine into a thousand as I heard the melancholy in his voice.

The feeling that he had just described was not new to me. In fact, I have had several of those times in my school life, where I always felt apart from the rest of the crowd in some way....not quite belonging, but wishing desperately to be ordinary, just like everyone else, to fit in, to belong. So as I pictured that little tender heart inside him, wishing for that same thing, but instead facing the non-fairytale ending that is biting reality, I did feel a lot of heartache. In fact, I couldn't stand knowing that I had been the cause of such a bitter disappointment for him.

I realised then, with extreme clarity, how having a child really is about feeling the pain and happiness of another, as your own, and with a heightened of sentiment if possible. Just for that short period, you do lose a sense of your limited self and expand and grow more open to the feelings that course through another's veins, as if it were your own. And it hurts. Both the pain and the pleasure of it.

So hearing the story of his number being skipped everytime, did it for me and I hurried downstairs to act on that email. I frantically typed a reply asking for an extra copy, feeling positive that this story could still have its fairytale ending after all. Winkie's class was getting theirs signed that day, and I might just be able to get it to him on time. Such was my daydream. It lasted all of 10 minutes when I checked my email again only to read that all those extra copies had been sold out. Uh oh! But she did go on to mention that she might be getting some extra copies over the weekend and I could call back in to check the next day, but it was first come first serve basis. I said I would call back and try my luck.

And that, I thought, was that. This was Thursday, and now he wouldn't get it on time for last full day of school (Monday), so I might as well break the news to him. When he came down all ready and packed, I gave him the grim tidings and his face fell a little, but I made it up to him, by giving back to him his camera, which had been confiscated as a previous punishment, and which he was to get back only near his birthday. But now he was getting it a whole 10 days early. He was stunned and happy and joyous and excited. And he clicked and smiled and was his usual cheery, breakfasting self. And I marvelled at how easy it still was to distract him and make him happy.

Once I got to work, I checked my mail again. And once more, there was a mail from this lady who I will henceforth call an angel, for that is the role she assumed in all of this. She wrote saying, she had the PTA copy on her, and would I mind having that instead, to save on all the time of waiting? It had a little scratch on the side, she said, but other than that, looked as good as new. And I could pick it up this evening. I jumped at this sudden glimpse of a rainbow in the sky, and sent manifold blessings her way, as I hurriedly affirmed the plan of action (lest that be on a first come first served basis too...:D ), and didn't breathe a word of the same to Winkie when he got back home from school. He mentioned, without any pain how he had signed in all his friends' yearbooks and then went on to enjoy his camera some more.

Come 8:00 PM, I covertly left the house and drove over to Angel's home. She was there in her backyard, watering the plants and gave me the book and showed me the scratch, adding...I figured the PTA doesn't really need a yearbook, but this kid would! What a sweetheart!

I owe her a nice email right now, after I hit publish, telling her about my son's reaction, because boy! is it worth telling. I came home, hiding the book very cleverly beneath a bag, and he asked me where I had been, and as I was chattering away, I also managed to get the camera out and R hugged him at that precise time, to make it look like I was getting a picture of the 2 of them, and I slipped him the book over Winkie's unsuspecting head, and when they broke apart, Winkie caught sight of it, and started, then gasped and grabbed it, exclaiming....hey, that's a yearbook!


And his face! Oh his face! I will never forget that smile for as long as I live, and now you will see it too, thanks to all my expert planning! :D By now it had dawned on him that this had been planned and he gushed and went quiet and gushed and went speechless, all in turns. When he gushed, he said over and over how he couldn't believe it, and when he went quiet, it was to pore over the pages of his very own, very first yearbook and look for his class page. When he gushed again, it was to say that this was the best thing ever, and I know it was, and when he went quiet again, it was to flash the most heartful smile at me, and give me a hug of big thanks. It seems that all the kids would bring their books back to school tomorrow to get it signed by their teacher and the 2nd graders from the other classes, and he would very well have an opportunity to get his signed too. And there was a kid in his bus who hadn't got his copy either and they both talked about who among them was going to get his first, like in a contest, and by jove, Winkie wins this one doesn't he???!!!

It is 10:00 PM as he finally went off to sleep, tucking all his excitement under his pillow, with a lot of difficulty, gushing all the while of how tomorrow was going to be his best day EVER!

And as for me.........well, my heart is full after all that emotional breaking. And I feel keenly how much Winkie deserves this happiness, for he asks of so little from us, always accepting a lot of our no's, well meant as they are, with a wonderful forbearance. And I reflect on how sweet is the joy of gain for a little heart, when bitterly difficult has been the pain of denial. Winkie has been through a tremendous low and then a giddying high, which has helped him live out the pulse of life. But this doesn't call for a repeat performance of the same feat next year. Of that I am sure. :)