Monthly Archives: March 2015

Toddler Talk: A letter to my toddler

Today, after a very long time, you had tears in your eyes when I dropped you off at preschool. You didn’t even throw a tantrum, just clung to me with huge tears rolling down your cheek. It broke my heart. I’d watched another mom dealing with the same thing just the other day. I saw her face as she walked away after her toddler was taken inside crying, and I knew she was hurting. It was probably worse for her, because I know she goes to work, and wouldn’t be back until later in the evening to pick her child up. I know those tears will linger in her mind, even as she deals with the tasks of her work day.

I want to tell you, though, that I understand. Today, somehow, I didn’t get frazzled or worked up that you were crying. Instead, my mind flashed back some 20-odd years, and I remembered how I felt as a small child, watching my mother drop me off and leave. Suddenly, school or wherever you are at that time feels like an alien territory because it’s bereft of the person who is the centre of your existence. I get it. In fact, I remembered that I hated that feeling so much that I never wanted my parents to drop me in school. I always preferred to go by bus, filled with my noisy friends, because that way, I would be directly plunged into the school day and not have to ‘part’ with my parents at the gate.

I also want to tell you how much I wish that you didn’t have to feel these difficult emotions. I wish I could protect you from all of it. There are so many more you’ll have to deal with as you get older… hurt, betrayal, bitter disappointments, intense fear, pain, anger you won’t know how to handle. I wish I could protect you the way I did when you were inside me. But I can’t. You live in this world, and you have to deal with its vagaries, its realities, and yes, its cruelties. I’ll do my very best to give you the tools to deal with the things to come, and when that’s not enough, I want you to know that you can always come to me to talk or rant or cry or even just hug.

Right now, you’re somewhere on the cusp between babyhood and childhood. Sometimes you look and talk so much like a ‘big girl’, I forget you’re still just little more than a baby. Then on days like this or on nights when you throw a tantrum over nothing, I remember it again. I realise that you’re a little person dealing with big emotions, stuff that even adults struggle with. I’ve lived in this world 30-odd years and I still have emotional blow-outs when I’m exhausted or facing a problem I haven’t dealt with before. How can I expect you to handle things perfectly on little over three years of lived experience? It might seem irrational to me that you’re crying over being without me for a couple of hours, but I will try and remember it feels like a big deal to you. I won’t say, “Don’t be silly!” or “Big girls don’t cry!” or “It’s just for a few hours!” I’ll try and understand, and I’ll give you a hug and a kiss and wipe your tears.

But I’ll still muster up a cheerful smile and wave and walk away. I’ll do that because I believe you have the ability to cope with whatever you’re feeling. I’ll do it because I know we can always talk about it at night, like that time you told me you were having a ‘funny feeling’ and we realised that you were feeling scared of that strangely shaped shadow in the bedroom. I’ll do it because as much as I wish I could just hold you in my arms and shield you against everything difficult and painful, I know that I can’t. I’ll do it because I love you, and am doing the best I can for you, the best way I know how.

I just wanted you to know that.

Love,

Amma

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column published in The Hindu Metroplus. This article originally appeared here titled ‘To baby, with love’.  

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Filed under Family, Motherhood, Toddler Talk column

It really bothers me that…

Oh look. The penguin needs a life jacket too. *facepalm*

Oswald the Octopus can’t swim and needs a floatie in the water. Because, hello! He’s an octopus. Granted he’s blue and wears a little black hat and sounds like Fred Savage and has a dog that’s literally a hot dog with a tail. And, yes, I get that he’s teaching little kids about water safety yada yada. But, y’know, even a three year old can grasp the concept that an octopus is different from a person, and doesn’t need help swimming in the water since that’s where octopuses live. Also, must he look both directions five times before he crosses the road, every single time? And so s-l-o-w-l-y too? Again, I get it. Teaching safety, etc. But talk about disrupting the dramatic momentum of the narrative. Yeesh.

… Max and Ruby is apparently a cartoon about two little orphaned rabbits. Seriously, where are the fricking parents? They’re not referenced once, not even in passing. At least in Charlie and Lola and Stella and Sam, the kids talk about their parents even if they never appear on screen. That’s fine. I get it. Parents are boring. These shows are all about siblings relationships. But Max and Ruby is just freaky — two small kids apparently living alone in a large, over-furnished, hideously upholstered house. No wonder Ruby’s an over-controlling, OCD mess and Max speaks in monosyllables. Not to mention that monumentally useless grandma of theirs who drops in for tea and ice-cream and then vamooses, leaving Ruby to cope all alone. And as if all her duties of feeding, bathing and cleaning up after Max weren’t enough, Ruby also takes on babysitting jobs, watching other little rabbits whose parents, ironically enough, are very much  present and accounted for. I tell you, that Ruby is heading for a nervous breakdown.

every building in the Peppa Pig universe is perched precariously on top of a ridiculously steep hill. I mean, why? What purpose could that possibly serve? Imagine the strain on the brakes on all the vehicles, since they need to park constantly on the almost vertical slopes of said hills. Not to mention the hazards of having little kids like George running down these slopes. And don’t even get me started on the stupid sloping gardens on the sides of the hills. They should just switch to terraced gardening or something.

Look ma! Flying pups and fancy mission towers!

… a ten-year-old boy in Paw Patrol apparently has endless income, access to fancy vehicles (including hovercrafts, helicopters and ATVs), and high-end electronic  systems, not to mention a ridiculously ostentatious tower with a glass-enclosed elevator and giant computer screens, used solely for discussing his ‘rescue missions’ with his pups. Why doesn’t anyone find it creepy that this kid, who apparently has no family, lives with a bunch of pups? What’s his source of income? How is it legal for him to be driving any vehicle on the roads (let alone his hi-funda All Terrain Vehical)? And why does Adventure Bay have absolutely no policemen or firemen or rescue personnel apart from the weird millionaire boy and his talking pups?

… cartoons such as The Hive  and Ben and Holly turn fleas and ladybirds into ‘dogs’, complete with the panting and barking and stick-fetching behaviours. Repeat after me, cartoon makers: fleas and ladybirds are NOT dogs. They’re bugs. As such, they behave like bugs. They don’t bark. They don’t play fetch. Not every pet needs to be canine-esque. Get over it, seriously.

Yes. I know. I need to get a life.

I’ll let you know when I do. Until then… stop using a floatie in the water, Oswald!

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