Pogo has speech delay (thanks to nuclear families, a motherhood-illiterate me and TV). He is just learning to articulate a few things to us and it’s a whole new game.
A friend (also a professional speech therapist) recommend that we await a response from Pogo before we fulfil his need.
Taking the advise to heart, the over-enthusiast, eager-to-set-it-right parents (i.e us) began our journey. Everytime Pogo requested for something by pointing to it, we would add “oh Pogo baby, you want water, yes or no? ” whilst nodding to add the visual communication tools.
Annoyed. Frustrated. Angry. Irritated. Pogo had had his way for so long and now his wierd tall at-bid assistants (in earth lingo these assistants are called parents) we’re asking him too many questions.
One fine evening, Pogo wanted some snack. As he kept pointing to his favorite snack with a hungry and cute face, I was stone-hearted enough to ask “is this what you want baby? Say yes or no? ” As I repeated, hunger and anger had tipped over Pogo’s little head and in an angry voice he said “Yes or No”.
Stunned by the sudden outburst and the absurdity of it, I (idiotic as ever) said “no baby, you must say either yes or no”. Still missing his snack and angry, Pogo repeated in a rather loud voice “hmm, yes or now” and sternly pointed at his snack.
Unable to control myself any longer, I handed over his rightful snack to him “yes or no” style..!
Parenting 101: Anger gets the better of us,. Just say it, yes or no?
An unforeseen bond exists between the grandchild and the grandparents. They share the best laughs, the best moments and the best of life together.
Last week, Pogo’s Nana decided to have a sisters-day-out. So, she had been away for whole two days. Pogo had never experienced his Nana being away for so long and was beginning to miss her.
So when we had gone to my aunt’s home to pick Nana.. Pogo was super excited.
In the living room, Nana and her two sisters sat, waiting for us.. As soon as we stepped on the breaks of our car, the door leapt open and Pogo ran into the house crying “Nana, Nana, let’s go home.”
Happy to see two more shrivelled, huggable, cuddly nanas there.. Pogo’s excitement knew no bounds. Whilst he kept bouncing from one cuddly Kissy encounter to the next, the ever-responsible mother (Me of course) Reminded him that it was time to leave.
In his excitement and still dizzy from all the hugs, Pogo grabbed the first bony hand reachable to the car. On reaching, Pogo was shocked at the faux paid, he had grabbed the wrong Nana.
Nuclear families are a rage these days. And with nuclear families, comes smaller apartment homes and shared utility spaces. Now, this is all to theoretical for a toddler right? Theoretical or not, best to explain these dynamics to your little too loud for parent’s own good munchkin before taking him out.
Yesterday, we had decided to go to the movies. Pogo was an absolute darling and slept through the entire movie, allowing us three complete hours to enjoy the (good) movie. Waking up, (just as the credits were rolling up) Pogo had an urgent need to go.
As we were rushing to the little boys room, I asked GK to assist Pogo whilst I waited for them outside. Coming out, Pogo had a long drawn face, too upset to say anything. Cajoling him, I asked, “What happened Pogo baby? why the long face?” (Garnering all his innocence and putting up the puppy dog eyes,) Pogo says “mummy, why didn’t you come to the loo?”
Suppressing a giggle, I explain to him that the room he visited was exclusively for boys and girls have their own special room. Unable to control his pain any further, Pogo burst out “But why? we share a room at home?” ((Good lord, who teaches these kids logic??)) As i continued to explain, “Pogo baby, mommy is a girl while you are a boy so, we each have our special rooms?”
Unsatisfied with my numerous responses, Pogo continued to ask “but why?” till we reach home away from the curious eyes of on lookers.
Parenting 101: Even in the toddler world, gender bias is unacceptable. Oops..!!
For about a fortnight since school, Pogo has begun to show interest in colouring, which is good because now we can carry around just that one item when we go out to keep him engaged. (which of course doesn’t work..! Outside has so much more fun to offer than paper and colors..!)
As a responsible, loving, over-excited mother, I did the most obvious thing.. I guided him (oh.. The illusions of motherhood..!!) on how to color better.(like he needs it..)
So in order to encourage the ever-enthusiastic mother, Pogo handed over a crayon to me and asked me to fill in. (or so I thought) As I just about finished colouring a section, I stopped to admire my handy work and asked Pogo “Pogo how is amma’s coloring? ”
Then began the screams and accusations. Pogo had only meant for me to hold the crayon whilst he color. Now, the sheet was etched with my handy work and he disliked it.
Even today, almost a week or so since, Pogo rushes to show his coloring book to every visitor (if lucky, you would even get a larger than life version of how I snatched-“I didn’t”.. the crayon to commit the hedious crime) to narrate the tale of his guilty mother.
Parenting 101: baby talk is no excuse for stupid actions..!
At Pogo’s first visit to the beach, we build a castle
Zipping past rush hour traffic, we manage to squeeze into a tight parking lot. Getting off a feet away from the temple.
Paaath.. Breaking the coconut to ward off any evil lined up against his prosperity, we pray that Pogo be blessed with knowledge and intellect to prosper in live.
Running back to the car, we realised that Pogo had stained his new white t-shirt with kumkum.. (what was I thinking, seriously…!) I was rampaging through the bag looking for a spare T-shirt (oh.. So here is the ticket, oh and my brush.. Damn here is the orientation card.. But where the hell is a t shirt) while GK rode through the morning traffic.
Alas, we were destined to walk into the first day of school in stained T-shirt.
Pogo was allocated the same room that he was interviewed at. Bless my stars, now we would have to find out if he would enter (read here).
He did. More so, Pogo was one of the few who didn’t cry; answered questions that (future best) buddies and teachers asked. He also was playing with the toys left around for children to settle in.
All in all, the best half hour of the six hour struggle. (Happy dance time…!)
In parenting, however, there is one thing you must never forget- most happy times are short-lived and are followed by (ear-scrreching) tantrums.
Now, who would have guessed that Pogo would refuse to walk out of school.
Parenting 101: tantrums die down but pride lives on. My little munchkin has started school.
Having his own corner helps getting Pogo accustomed to a new home.