Its that time of the year again in Winkie's Way, when we roll out the surprises. And if you haven't tired yet of the myriad different and not so different ways in which we strive to do it, then maybe I'll tell you about what's in store today.
R turns 36 and is truly kicking it back today. He has the day off and can be found lolling on the couch watching some 1986 flick called Platoon. His MIL works hard in the kitchen to serve up a simple, hot homecooked meal, the smells of which are already wafting in the air and tantalising our taste buds and our appetites. The boys are at school and the morning is very laid back. If R feels like it, he may end up taking a nice little afternoon siesta.
And then, after that cuppa chai, around the time that Winkie gets home, we will kick things up a notch. All the lethargy will have to be shunned for a high power treasure hunt, planted by yours truly. The man will have to work for his reward, and climb floors and hunt inside cupboards and crack some brain cells and maybe even take a little drive out to the post box or the gazebo in our community. At the long winded end of which, he will find what he has been looking for. Now don't hold your breaths for this one, cos it ain't anything fancy. Far from it. The prize is just a simple daily necessity, which he has been needing for a year without venturing to buy it for himself. Call it selflessness or laziness, for it could be a good confusing mix of both, but come Monday, he won't have to worry about whether his black shoes, the soles of which are long gone, flap uncomfortably in the back as he walks or worse still, reveal a flash of his white socks to those who walk behind him. Yup! He's getting shoes. Sorely needed, as you can tell. And comfy PJ's to wear around the house. And a freshly iced blueberry cake. And the birthday song sung quite ceremoniously by the little one who sings it every day of the week at least 3 times a day. And a day that we hope he will remember fondly, with a smile, as he remembers the quirks of each member of his family who contributed to it!
It is now Thambi's second month in school. And he has settled in fully. He has made friends who scream out his name as soon as they see him, in a rowdy way and he has placed his trust in UmaAunty who snuggles into the small of his neck whenever he lets her hold him. So everything is nice and peachy. Except that I never wrote much about any of that. Or put up his cute little artworks which were true firsts for him. I admired them when I saw them, kept the ones I really liked and didn't let the rest clutter our limited space...but that was it. I never took a picture and wrote a few words in caption, the way I had done 3 years before. And I wondered why.
Why is it that this beautiful second child who amazes me in every way, the one whose walking ground I worship, the one for whom I cannot keep track of how many times he has made me smile, or how many times I myself have angled my face to get to the small of his neck to kiss....why so many of his firsts and his milestones do not get recorded with the same alacrity and gusto as the first. There is no lack of love, of that I am certain. Truth be told, sometimes I think there's a little too much of it, even when tantrums and feet stomping rear their dismaying heads. So then why not? And I realise....its because its not MY FIRST TIME. Sad how it all becomes about you, isn't it!
My first time living in painstaking detail the first month of my child's school days was with Winkie. My first time bringing home handcrafted things and feeling the swell of pride, was with Winkie. I could go on....about the great many firsts that I savoured and experienced thanks to my first born. So when it happened that first time, I just had to write about it because it was such a new thing in my life. But when it happens a second time, some of that novelty has already worn off. Sad that it may be, but true it is. Atleast for me.
Also, I guess a big part of it is due to the fact that the focus of the blog has shifted from just reminiscences of my boys to a lot more of me as well. Sort of a natural progression I suppose, when you gather some momentum as a writer.
Does it make me feel guilty? No, not really. But I still do notice the differences, which is what makes me write about it I guess. Its not a line of thought I want to give too much credence to, at any rate. But now that I have paused to reflect on it....I want to take the time to show off one little masterpiece that his small little hands created. Bold, bright strokes, in a certain compliance of the lines bordering it and also a certain defiance of it, as the paint travels beyond its constraints. It may not be the first time a child of mine has brought home a work of art, but it is certainly the first time it is happening again. And it leaves me with a terrific impatience to get out the door and rush out to see him again..
At first it was because Amma was here and there was much to catch up on, and therapy to attend and walking to do. And then it became about ST's festival and gearing up my contributions for that. And somewhere in all that, it became all about Farmville! Yes. My name is Tharini and I am a Farmville addict. *hands raised and open palm*
And before I knew it, enough time had passed to put a distance between me and the blog. At first, I really relished it. Its nice to get away from something you have been doing a lot of and using that time for other things. It felt refreshing. And then, as time went by, a sort of inertia came into me. And with that a sort of insecurity. I felt like I had forgotten how to write...how to share bits of my life, how to connect to my thoughts through words. Everything I would have normally wanted to write about seemed jaded and 'been there done that' like. And of course, I also got quite busy as a farmer, among other things. :)
Now, with all your kind enquiries coming in, its like getting postcards, dotting the way and making the path back clear...clear enough to make me want to take it again.
Long story short, I am back. I want to write again. I want to tell you all about the boys and their little quirks. I want to dust off all the cobwebs from my mind and tell you what I see in it, hoping you will understand, like you have done many times before. I want to feel the rush of seeing that precious comment delivered to my mailbox and eager to know what it is you took the time to say to me.
Thank you guys...for always being the tether that helps me come back to something I know I truly love, though I stopped needing it for a little while. And what a roundabout way of saying....Hello again! :)
Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People's Ears by Verna Aardema Pictures by Leo and Diane Dillon
Caldecott Award, 1976
Ages : 5 to 8
This would be an interesting question to ponder on, isn't it? And one that has a very interesting answer too, revealed by this very cute, award winning book!
The story starts with a mosquito telling the iguana who comes to the waterhole, a little something...about a farmer digging yams that were almost as big as the mosquito was!!! The iguana, for his part, is mighty annoyed at being told such tall tales and sticks a couple of sticks in his ears to avoid hearing such nonsense and walks off mek mek mek mek, looking pretty grumpy.
Calabash Cat and his Amazing Journey by James Rumford
Ages : 4 - 7
"Good children's literature appeals, not only to the child in the adult, but to the adult in the child!" So goes a quote by an anonymous but obviously wise person, who has summed up the universal appeal that good kid literature has. And I can't help but second that. A book is completely about the shared enjoyment, and the little bits that everyone takes away from it. And Calabash Cat from the West African country of Chad, falls exactly into this genre!
Read the rest of this review over at Saffron Tree as part of CROCUS 2009! And don't forget to leave a comment! :)
Writing is my heartbeat. Reading, my passion. God, my life force. My children, my hope. My friends, my cheer. My husband, the wind beneath my wings! The rest of my interests flow from this fountain of inspiration! This space is a reminiscence of the growing years of my boys, Winkie and Thambi, and my own evolution as a spiritual parent!
Its that time of the year again in Winkie's Way, when we roll out the surprises. And if you haven't tired yet of the myriad different and not so different ways in which we strive to do it, then maybe I'll tell you about what's in store today.
