Conversations

Conversations between the two siblings are getting more and more interesting. From incomprehensible (to us adults) chats between the two - interspersed with gestures and guffaws, in the mode of intelligent adult conversations - we now hear sensible, coherent dialogues and an imitation of our life in general. The long-legged doll and a monkey function as 'their kids'; the duo gives them a bath, medicines and drops them in school with instruction not to cry, pee etc.
The language (Malayalam) is also evolving. From "Achacha kadiyum/adiyum", Mira has learnt to add a ka and make it kadikkum and adikkum. One of her recent favorite onliners is "Ee Ammede oru karyam parayanda" (= 'This mother's ways are unspeakable' meant to convey her exasperation with me). The other favorites are Oohh and sseddaa (which doesnt actually mean anything, just a harmless expletive that got popular with the kids this Xmas season). Most of these have been picked up from the maid, I guess.
I dont know how good their understanding of the English language is. From 'no', Ash has proceeded to the usage of 'stop' in English. These are excluding the words that are taught with the alphabets - a for apple, b for ball/balloon, c for cat/cake etc. Since the teachers speak to them only in English, I guess they can understand basic English. Had he been going to school regularly, Ash would have been able to speak to some extent in the country's and South India's official language.
Long-distance conversations over the telephone have also improved in quality. Both know who belongs to which house and which parent etc and enquires after people in style - from Bruno our lab to Moma, the tenant's daughter at Chry. I guess this is not much to brag about but these are lil kids who have had an unstable childhood - frequently changing nannies, some of whom have terrorised them and two parents who work long or erratic hours.

Foetal concerns

Tulika's protruding belly was a source of wonder and curiosity for Ash and Mira the past three days. Ash, who whacks people hard when they least expect it, had to be kept away from her. An hour after "Tuli-aunty" came, Mira declared that she had a baby in her tummy too.

By the second day, Ash was impatient to see the baby. "Please ask the baby to come out and play with us," he demanded of his aunt. Communication is not easy since T cant understand Malayalam and my kids cant speak English. But I guess if I leave the three together for a month, T would pick up Malayalam and the kids would pick up English.

Yesterday when V came home, he found Mira sitting with her hand over her tummy. When her father enquired if she had stomach pain, she said: "Tell Achin not to kick my tummy. There is a baby in here. I am going to tell Uncle if he kicks."

The gravity of things

My mom sounded pained when I called to enquire about Ash today morning. The law of parental gravitational energy is such that you call the house where your child is domiciled more than the other. The law applies more for the inlaws' house. I call mil morning and night when Ash is there but otherwise I cut the calls to once a week. She doesnt blame me - such is parental concern.
Coming back to my mom. "What are you two working people going to do with this poor boy when he comes there?" she asked. She told me that Ash began itching the moment he hit bed yesterday(though I had asked mom to use a freshly laundered bedsheet for him in case it was dust mites that was aggravating the itchiness). What baffles us is that he is fine throughout the day - it could be because he is too busy playing to bother about his body. (I need to take him to Dr Patrick or Dr. Thambiah, keeping aside the traditional medicines for a while.)
She is doubtful if the maid will help relieve Ash's discomfort when we are away at work. One cant expect the maid to function the way the grandmothers do - sponging his body in hot water adding a pinch of salt and potassium permanganate or rubbing the affected area with their blunt nails. "Ammachide kayyilu nakamilla," Ash complains, and takes up the job himself. We take care to keep his nails trimmed, so that he doesnt bruise himself too much.
Ash butts in and tells me that the Papa next door (my uncle) has a moustache, that Appacha is watching Pogo (!!) and that Bruno is in his cage. I tell him to he leave his wagon set back there; I dont want it going the way of all toys here - broken or missing. He understands when I tell him that Vaava will lose it.
I guess we adults ought to stop cashing in on the sibling rivalry.
Mira is no better. She licks her icecream cup clean and confides: "Achacha cant have this. He will itch."
But sometimes she pretends to be suffering from a very itchy eye and skin. She rubs her eyes and howls: "Ente kannu muriyunne."
And today it was a mosquito bite on her chumbi (bum) .

Ownership battles

"Appacha ninno. Ithu vaavede buttera," shouts my daughter in glee to her big brother, holding aloft a cheese cube in her right hand.

That roughly translates to: "You go (to granpa's)! This is my butter."

That has my son wide awake early in the morning and a battle ensues. For the butter in her hand and for all the butter in the house. Butter that we hide from him. Since he is on a low-fat diet on account of his lead poisoning and since he is on another special diet to cure his food allergies.

So the food he cannot have and which she can have, we give her when he is sleeping or not around. But it is not always easy to make kids abide by adult manipulations.

Ash gets his tit for tat alright. As he takes his bath with a dash of salt and potassium permanganate to prevent itching, he tells Mira: "Appacha ninno. This is my hot water."

Or his colour pencils. Or his cap.

Mira takes the battle to another front. She insists on wearing only Ash's t-shirts at home these days, partly because most of them have pockets. And comes up with, Appacha ninno, ithu vaavede uppaa (dress).

And the battle goes on....

The curious questioner

Yesterday I read an article in our company hospital bulletin, which really touched me. About an 80-year-old man asking his 45-yr-old son a question four times. "What is that?" he asked looking at a crow. The son replies, "A crow". When the father repeats the same question over and over, the son is irritated and impatient. The father then brings a diary in which he has recorded something his son had asked him when he was just 3 years old. Looking at a crow, the son had asked him 23 times what it was and each time the father had gladly and patiently told him that it was a crow.

The message is that one should show patience and kindness to elders, however unreasonable the may sound. We dont show the same patience we show to children to our elders, entering their second childhood.

The story reminded me of my kids' repeated queries about things around them. Though I dont think I will have the patience to answer the same thing 23 times. Maybe 4-5 times. I dont have much patience with children, you know.

"Amma, ithenna vangichiya?" my son asks me when I give him a candy. My daughter asks the same too. I dont exactly understand the question in his baby language - it could mean when I bought it or where I bought it or who bought it. So I vary my answers too - I bought it yesterday or I bought it from the shop or Appa bought it. Whatever, my child is happy and keeps repeating the question until he starts savouring the candy. For him the question is just a preface to eating the candy.

A man of the world

Once upon a time, my brother would sit on a cane chair next to my ailing granpa in the parlour and pretend to be flying an aeroplane. "I am going to Persia to get you medicines," he'd tell him and it made my granpa so proud and happy that tears welled up in his eyes.
And today, my son did something like that with his granny as she was trying to get a couple of idiappams into his tummy by hook or crook. He 'started' his tricycle and told her, "I am going to get you medicines." He collected the money she 'gave' her and put in his pocket. Unfortunately, his vehicle met with an 'accident' as he went round the house. He turned it on its side and sat on its wheel and told her, "Vandi crashed!" He then got a spoon from the kitchen drawer to function as a spanner and spent some time repairing the cycle.
By then his granny had managed to get the idiappams down his throat and it was time for the next game.
p.s. It amazes me how much kids try to imitate adult life.

Pronoun basics

The kids have learnt the use of the possessive pronoun. It is not a very recent development but I have never thought/found time to write about it.
The pronoun that they find most useful is 'mine' but since they havent learnt to use I, my, mine and still resort to their names to identify themselves and their stuff, there is some grammatical aberration here. Malayalam grammar that is. Their use of English is still limited to words - sun, apple, elephant etc. - but they are getting pretty comfy in their mother tongue. I mean, Mira can make three-word sentences though I dunno if that is an achivement for a 2-year-old.
Coming back to pronouns, Mira uses the word Vaavii (Vaava's) to identify/claim something that she thinks is hers. It almost sounds like Paapi to us, the Malayalam equivalent for sinner.
And now I hear Ash using Achachiya to identify anything that is his.
The Tamil influence is beginning to show since the advent of the Tamilian nanny. Mira has abandoned the word mumma (something she picked up from Ash though I dont know where he got it from) for water and now uses the Tamil word thanni for it. All our efforts at telling them that it is either vellam (Malayalam) or water hadnt yielded results. Visiting relatives who heard their pleas for mumma often thought they were asking for me.
Happy Sundae ;) everyone!

Empty threats

We have been threatening Ash that we will pack him off to his grandparents' place in Kerala if he doesnt behave/raises a tantrum/bullies Mira etc. etc.
Appacha veetil poyi ninno (Go stay in granpa's house), we tell him. That gets him quiet. Or emotional. He begins crying or tries to change the topic or tries to get the parent into a good mood to lessen the punishment.
But we have been using this so often that it has become cliched. The kids are now using it to impose judgements on each other.
Appacha ninno (Granpa stay), each hurl punishment on the other at the slightest instance of a crime.
Ash is more specific: Vaava Appacha ninno. He then comes to us to rally support for his judgement against Vaava, his demon sister: Amma, vaava Appacha ninno.
But Mira's pronouncement of the judgment is more cute. She stresses on the ninno. She even uses it against the maid or us parents when she doesnt like the way we are behaving towards her! Though she breaks into a howl if we sound as if we really mean to send her away.
Meanwhile the Appacha and Ammachi are feeling sad about their grandchildren's reactions to living with them.