We had taken Ani to a place called Oglebay last year for a weekend. Now, Oglebay is in WV where the concept of vegetarian food is viewed with a certain amount of suspicion and scorn and sometimes, outright bewilderment. ["But... but why?" was the response at a restaurant when we asked for a meatless version of something]
Ani was in high excitement mode- very happy, singing loudly and giggling at the lyrics he mangled, usually by modifying all nouns and pronouns to the word "appo", which, in his language, refers to a big job in the loo. "Happy birthday to appo!" he sang loudly.
"And I'm only going to eat pasta and pizza, mummy", declared he. "No more tecchi mammam! No more uppu thuppa!"
We went there, had a great time in the zoo and the playground. The only drawback was the absence of any tasty vegetarian options: there was one pizza and one burger in the entire menu that were vegetarian. We started going to the Italian and Mexican restaurants in the neighboring town of Triadelphia for meals.
On the way back home on the third day, after a cheese-intense meal at one of these places, Ani groaned from the back seat "Mummy..... mummy, I only want tecchi mammam, mummy... I don't want anything else again"
Hah. Ani has passed the acid test for Tamil-nesss: a craving for tecchi mammam*!
*tecchi mammam, or thair sadam, for those not in the know: yogurt rice. South Indians, Tams especially, have been known to survive, and indeed thrive, only on that. It has to be the most evolved form of food invented by man.
Check out this post on the same by Sangeetha Iyer: http://livewire24.livejournal.com
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Morning Adventures
After feeding Durga this morning, I took her to where Ani was sleeping in another room. Ani likes to take a little walk around midnight: suppose he goes to bed in our room. Some time in the middle of the night, he will get up, walk over to my parents' room, shove my dad aside and climb into bed with him. He does this every night without fail. On the occasions that he falls asleep in my parents' room, he has the same routine in reverse. That is Ani's midnight walkabout.
So, I took Durga to where ever he was, and plonked her next to him, which had the happy result of Ani waking up and both kids talking, Durga gurgling and cooing, and Ani playing with her hands and hair. He has entered the 'Why' phase with its interminable questions, "Why is her hair like that, mummy? Why did she make that sound? Why doesn't she have any teeth? Why is she so small? Why are you picking her up? Why is your hair on my hand? Why did Robert pick up Lenna in the playground?' and so on and on and on.
When I tire of his questions, I take them downstairs where my mom is already knee-deep in Ammavasai preparations. 'Don't touch me!' she squeals at Ani when he makes a move to hug her. 'Give me 2 hours, and I'll take the kids', she tells me. Amma is in high-'madi' mode.
So I ask Ani, 'Oi, you need to go to the bathroom yet? You need to brush your teeth'
'Let me eat something first, mummy.'
This is a bad habit I've got Ani into (among one other big bad habit- that of watching TV while eating- and a bunch of smaller ones), but life is so much easier with him having eaten something before his tasks of the day start clamoring for attention.
He asks for alphabet-cookies, "P and umm... W!" he says. 'P' is Ani's favorite letter. It is also the first letter that he learned. My mom taught him that, and the letter F, from the book 'The Police Cloud', in which a cloud becomes a policeman and wears a blue cap with the letter 'P' on it and ultimately becomes a fireman cloud wearing a red cap with an 'F' on it. Ani knows all his letters, a fact that Amma and I take inordinate pleasure and pride in. He scrutinizes every piece of paper that comes his way and points out various alphabets. He doesn't do too well with lower-case letters yet, but he's a champ with upper-case letters.
As he gobbles up his cookies, I take him back upstairs, after handing Durga to my dad. Durga loves her Thatha- she greets him with a huge, toothless, dimpled grin every time she sees him. Her favorite sleeping position is on his tummy, where she plasters herself to him like a gecko on the wall.
Ani says, 'I need to go appo first, mummy. Take off my pants'. That being done, he places his toilet seat on top of the commode. I lift him and adjust his position. But oops- we've both forgotten about his little peepee, as they refer to it in his daycare. As he strains to do his appo, which is our word for #2, his peepee flies up and showers the whole room with pee.
'Eeek!' I scream, lunging towards him and tucking his peepee into the pot. 'Ani, seriously, how could you?' I scold.
Ani giggles. I mop up the pee from the floor and pull him back from the seat so I can throw the tissue paper into it.
'Don't make it drip on me!' Ani cries. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah', I grumble. 'Now do your thing, while I brush my teeth'.
We spend 5 minutes quietly, each lost in thoughts.
'Why do we flush our appo after it falls'? Ani asks. I explain the process of decomposition and its attendant odors.
Ani disregards all that. 'Because, if we don't... if we don't , the police will come and put us in jail!' he declares impressively.
'Speaking of appo, how are you doing?'
'I've done a big, BIG appo', Ani boasts.
'How big?', I ask.
"That big', he answers, spreading his hands wide.
'Really?' I ask skeptically.
I peek over his shoulder into the pot. 'Ani, there's nothing. Nothing! Try harder.'
As I comb my hair, some sounds emerge. 'There now, see?' I say encouragingly. 'That's how to do it'.
'No, mummy', Ani says, patiently. 'That's only gas'.
I say nothing, but roll my eyes when he can't see.
'Plop! Plop! Plop'
I swing around and meet Ani's eyes. We both grin widely. 'That's my munna', I say, with no small amount of pride. 'Yep!' Ani says.
After some more time, Ani says 'Mummy, I want to see how much I've done'. He hops down from the pot and we both peer into it.
'Wow, Ani', I say with respect. 'That's some appo you've done'.
He nods quietly.
'I'm so glad you're doing all this in the potty. What a relief!'
We clean him up, brush his teeth, and go down, where I pick up Durga as well.
'Hey, you want to drink some chocolate milk with me?', I ask.
'Okay!'
I bring down a large cup, and make enough milk for both of us. It's been a while since we shared a single cup of chocolate milk, but it's something we both like to do. Unfortunately, I have not taken into account all the things Ani has learned in his preschool in these intervening days. He takes a gulp of milk and instead of swallowing it, gargles with it in his mouth.
'Ani! That's disgusting! Don't do it!' I scold.
He giggles some more.
I ponder on the best way to handle this. Any more scolding, and I would just have an increasingly mischievous and giggling child on my hands.
But he seems to see sense and quietly drinks some more milk.
I congratulate myself for not making a bigger deal of his gargling earlier. I feed Durga.
Then. It happens. He takes in a gulp, gargles and spits it back out in the cup. I blink.
Retribution. But how best to achieve it?
Before I know it, he does it again, meets my eyes, and laughs.
I see red. I howl, 'Ani! What the heck are you doing? Stop that right now!'
He laughs and laughs, not taking me seriously at all.
I grab his hand, force him to meet my eyes, take on a gimlet stare and say, 'I do NOT like that. Stop it or I will punish you'.
It is his turn to blink. He is probably thinking this is a great game and he doesn't understand my response.
I repeat myself again, but instead of quiet firmness, I can only think of my lovely hot chocolate milk and how I can't bring myself to drink it anymore, and my voice comes out angry and resentful. Ani's face crumples and he launches himself off the couch and cries and goes to his Thatha.
I make myself another cup and tell myself it will be fine. My mom scolds me and tells me how I should be disciplining him, instead of the way I tried.
Ten minutes later, I go upstairs. Ani is watching a video of a car racing a bus. He looks at me and smiles. All is forgiven and forgotten.
So, I took Durga to where ever he was, and plonked her next to him, which had the happy result of Ani waking up and both kids talking, Durga gurgling and cooing, and Ani playing with her hands and hair. He has entered the 'Why' phase with its interminable questions, "Why is her hair like that, mummy? Why did she make that sound? Why doesn't she have any teeth? Why is she so small? Why are you picking her up? Why is your hair on my hand? Why did Robert pick up Lenna in the playground?' and so on and on and on.
When I tire of his questions, I take them downstairs where my mom is already knee-deep in Ammavasai preparations. 'Don't touch me!' she squeals at Ani when he makes a move to hug her. 'Give me 2 hours, and I'll take the kids', she tells me. Amma is in high-'madi' mode.
So I ask Ani, 'Oi, you need to go to the bathroom yet? You need to brush your teeth'
'Let me eat something first, mummy.'
This is a bad habit I've got Ani into (among one other big bad habit- that of watching TV while eating- and a bunch of smaller ones), but life is so much easier with him having eaten something before his tasks of the day start clamoring for attention.
He asks for alphabet-cookies, "P and umm... W!" he says. 'P' is Ani's favorite letter. It is also the first letter that he learned. My mom taught him that, and the letter F, from the book 'The Police Cloud', in which a cloud becomes a policeman and wears a blue cap with the letter 'P' on it and ultimately becomes a fireman cloud wearing a red cap with an 'F' on it. Ani knows all his letters, a fact that Amma and I take inordinate pleasure and pride in. He scrutinizes every piece of paper that comes his way and points out various alphabets. He doesn't do too well with lower-case letters yet, but he's a champ with upper-case letters.
As he gobbles up his cookies, I take him back upstairs, after handing Durga to my dad. Durga loves her Thatha- she greets him with a huge, toothless, dimpled grin every time she sees him. Her favorite sleeping position is on his tummy, where she plasters herself to him like a gecko on the wall.
Ani says, 'I need to go appo first, mummy. Take off my pants'. That being done, he places his toilet seat on top of the commode. I lift him and adjust his position. But oops- we've both forgotten about his little peepee, as they refer to it in his daycare. As he strains to do his appo, which is our word for #2, his peepee flies up and showers the whole room with pee.
'Eeek!' I scream, lunging towards him and tucking his peepee into the pot. 'Ani, seriously, how could you?' I scold.
Ani giggles. I mop up the pee from the floor and pull him back from the seat so I can throw the tissue paper into it.
'Don't make it drip on me!' Ani cries. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah', I grumble. 'Now do your thing, while I brush my teeth'.
We spend 5 minutes quietly, each lost in thoughts.
'Why do we flush our appo after it falls'? Ani asks. I explain the process of decomposition and its attendant odors.
Ani disregards all that. 'Because, if we don't... if we don't , the police will come and put us in jail!' he declares impressively.
'Speaking of appo, how are you doing?'
'I've done a big, BIG appo', Ani boasts.
'How big?', I ask.
"That big', he answers, spreading his hands wide.
'Really?' I ask skeptically.
I peek over his shoulder into the pot. 'Ani, there's nothing. Nothing! Try harder.'
As I comb my hair, some sounds emerge. 'There now, see?' I say encouragingly. 'That's how to do it'.
'No, mummy', Ani says, patiently. 'That's only gas'.
I say nothing, but roll my eyes when he can't see.
'Plop! Plop! Plop'
I swing around and meet Ani's eyes. We both grin widely. 'That's my munna', I say, with no small amount of pride. 'Yep!' Ani says.
After some more time, Ani says 'Mummy, I want to see how much I've done'. He hops down from the pot and we both peer into it.
'Wow, Ani', I say with respect. 'That's some appo you've done'.
He nods quietly.
'I'm so glad you're doing all this in the potty. What a relief!'
We clean him up, brush his teeth, and go down, where I pick up Durga as well.
'Hey, you want to drink some chocolate milk with me?', I ask.
'Okay!'
I bring down a large cup, and make enough milk for both of us. It's been a while since we shared a single cup of chocolate milk, but it's something we both like to do. Unfortunately, I have not taken into account all the things Ani has learned in his preschool in these intervening days. He takes a gulp of milk and instead of swallowing it, gargles with it in his mouth.
'Ani! That's disgusting! Don't do it!' I scold.
He giggles some more.
I ponder on the best way to handle this. Any more scolding, and I would just have an increasingly mischievous and giggling child on my hands.
But he seems to see sense and quietly drinks some more milk.
I congratulate myself for not making a bigger deal of his gargling earlier. I feed Durga.
Then. It happens. He takes in a gulp, gargles and spits it back out in the cup. I blink.
Retribution. But how best to achieve it?
Before I know it, he does it again, meets my eyes, and laughs.
I see red. I howl, 'Ani! What the heck are you doing? Stop that right now!'
He laughs and laughs, not taking me seriously at all.
I grab his hand, force him to meet my eyes, take on a gimlet stare and say, 'I do NOT like that. Stop it or I will punish you'.
It is his turn to blink. He is probably thinking this is a great game and he doesn't understand my response.
I repeat myself again, but instead of quiet firmness, I can only think of my lovely hot chocolate milk and how I can't bring myself to drink it anymore, and my voice comes out angry and resentful. Ani's face crumples and he launches himself off the couch and cries and goes to his Thatha.
I make myself another cup and tell myself it will be fine. My mom scolds me and tells me how I should be disciplining him, instead of the way I tried.
Ten minutes later, I go upstairs. Ani is watching a video of a car racing a bus. He looks at me and smiles. All is forgiven and forgotten.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
/Sigh/
I'm beginning to recall why I didn't like C programming back in college...
Python is supposed to among the easiest languages there is, and I'm struggling.
I have a simple enough exercise to do: there's a text with 4 lines, each containing the name of a sequence, followed by a space, and then a sequence.
All I need to do is to reformat the text into a FASTA format.
But oh lord, I'm tired of writing (actually, correcting) the code for this... every time I think, 'well, that has to be the right way of doing it', I get an 'Invalid syntax' message back.
Still, I HAVE to get this right, so back to the drawing board I go.
Python is supposed to among the easiest languages there is, and I'm struggling.
I have a simple enough exercise to do: there's a text with 4 lines, each containing the name of a sequence, followed by a space, and then a sequence.
All I need to do is to reformat the text into a FASTA format.
But oh lord, I'm tired of writing (actually, correcting) the code for this... every time I think, 'well, that has to be the right way of doing it', I get an 'Invalid syntax' message back.
Still, I HAVE to get this right, so back to the drawing board I go.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
June and Ani
June has proven to be a time when Ani makes great developmental leaps:
June 7th 2011: Ani took his first steps
June 2012: Ani stopped breastfeeding completely
June 2013: Ani is completely (and I do mean COMPLETELY) potty trained. Hurray! No more diapers? I certainly hope so!
June 7th 2011: Ani took his first steps
June 2012: Ani stopped breastfeeding completely
June 2013: Ani is completely (and I do mean COMPLETELY) potty trained. Hurray! No more diapers? I certainly hope so!
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