Tag Archives: Two-Year Olds

Have moved the kids to their room..

For some this may seem too late, way too late. Older one is six, younger ones are two, and they are sleeping in their room tonight, for the first time. For me though, it’s come too soon.

But, I’ve done it – for many, not necessarily related reasons. And I feel a bit empty tonight.

I’ve done this out of my own free will (despite the resistance of my older daughter) and even felt excited about getting a bit of my life back – little pleasures of reading in bed, not talking in hushed tones, watching a film after the kids sleep, and of course, “couple time” with the hubby. But, right now, at this moment as I write this and the room is so empty that it almost has en echo, my heart feels heavy. I miss them. Terribly.

They are right across the room from me and I’ve been to their room countless times already – looking at their sleeping, angelic faces, kissing their lovely foreheads and tender cheeks, standing like a shadow staring blankly at the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark so I can see their curled-up forms, adjusting their blankets, checking if the AC is not too cold….I can safely say that I will not get much sleep tonight.

I almost feel guilty for doing this. Try as I might, I cannot shake away that feeling. And I know that this is a bit of a cultural thing. In India, it is perfectly normal for kids to sleep in the same room as their parents till, well, let’s just till very very late into their lives. I have friends (though these are mainly those who have a single child) who’ve not moved out even 10 year old kids yet. And that’s not frowned upon here, in the least.

There is this mad urge I have to bring them back, to admit to them that the experiment has failed miserably! I know I won’t do it, if only for the fact that I’ve moved a lot of furniture around, made many adjustments around the house etc etc. But I now wish I’d waited a little more. Because this is irreversible. This first physical separation is just the beginning of many many separations and I wish I had not hurried it.

I know that I may be over-dramatizing this a bit, but it’s late and I am in a reflectory kind-of mood, the kind that the silence of the night brings on. My mind is in over-drive and I am willingly letting it loose to make all sorts of haphazard connections between this one little change and my issues of not being able to let go. (looked at deeply enough, though, there is a connection, is there not?)

I need a nightcap. But, far from aiding, that runs the risk of letting my thoughts wander into dark corners of my mind and doing some notorious digging. No, I don’t need that. I guess, I should just sleep. Yes, that’s what I need to do, that’s the only way I’ll stop thinking about it, at least consciously.

So, am going to call it a night, with one last peek into the room, one last kiss and to do my bit for the benefit of the tooth-fairy. Yes, she’s going to visit tonight, to take my daughter’s first tooth and leave her a Doraemon bed sheet – for her new bed in her new room..


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All I want is another one..

For the longest time I’ve wondered if I wanted another child, and, after much deliberation, I decided I did. I know there’s all this mommyrage stuff and the obvious thing to ask is, will it push me over the edge??

I thought about it – and came to some interesting conclusions. The main one was that I am standing, and here’s where it gets tricky, quite far from the edge, so, another baby will push me closer to the edge, but not over it (some analysis hah? what can I say, it comes with being a woman who thinks a lot!!)

Now, I know there are those of you reading this saying “mmm, don’t be so sure sister”, and frankly I would have had the same reaction if I’d read this on some other blog, but, you know it’s a bit like watching a speeding car – you are not in control so you wonder if the driver will know when to apply the brakes, but the driver knows what she/he is doing. So, I am, kind of, the driver and I like to think I know what I am doing!

The trouble, however, is that I am not getting pregnant – and it is worrying me. I plan to go see my gynie soon, because I want to start the process now and ideally have the baby by the time my two-year old is three..but each month I get disappointed and crabby. I am on the wrong side of thirty and have little time..

And it’s like a chain reaction: not having baby=biological clock ticking(not crazy about the phrase but it’s relevant)=stress=pressure on them poor eggs who can’t take the stress=more crabbiness=taking out on unsuspecting husband (who does not know how much time I spend thinking)=crabby husband…and it goes on and on, and, this is the TIP of the iceberg. I am not even getting into all the will-anyone-ever-give-me-a-job stuff.

I think I need a cup of coffee. What the heck, at least I can enjoy the coffee since no baby’s on the way yet!


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Getting her off the bottle

She won’t give it up. I get a firing from her pediatrician every time I meet him – he’s convinced that each time she gets a stomach bug, it’s because of the bottle. I don’t necessarily agree, knowing how anal I am about her sterilizing. He, however, remains unmoved (and unamused!)

But, try as I might, my daughter won’t relent.

I told my husband, who is subscribes to the let-her-do-what-she-wants school of thought, that the next time I have to take her to the doc, he’s coming with me! But see, my husband does not have the time (something I don’t grudge him, no honestly, I am not shy about telling him when I do!) he’s got to keep the home fires burning and he’s at work, so it’s not something he can help. What he can help, however, is not being so soft on some issues..the bottle being one of them. I find it hard enough, as it is, because she wails and wails and I feel bad too, because I can she that she’s really upset, as opposed to times when she’s generally throwing a tantrum and trying to look more hurt that she really is.

So, I find it hard, and so far I’ve not been able to give her the glass – she hates the sight of it. But when I do try and be strict, my husband gives in and tells her that he’d give it to her!! She’s only just about two, but she knows who to plead to in this case.

Anyhow, I’ve decided to defer it a little, I’ll try again when she’s two and a half. And if in the meantime I have to go to the doc again (touch wood), my husband’s coming with me!!

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When do you move them out to their room?

I’ve been good about putting my daughter in her cot, and she loves to sleep in it. The next phase of moving her to her room, however, is going to be difficult.

In India, it’s kind of normal for the kids to sleep in the same room as the parents till they are five or six, sometimes even later. I am not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I know it’s good to move them out sooner rather than later, but when I actually do it, would I be worried about her at night? Will I go to her room five times at night to check on her? And I am not even getting into how she’ll take to it, or rather not take to it, knowing my two-year old!

It’s easier when there are two kids, I guess. I have two siblings and we used to sleep in our room as kids. I, being the youngest, was always happy to be with them, we’d joke and laugh (and fight!) at night and I loved it. But, in the case of my daughter it’s going to be different, since she’s the only one, and, because I’ve been a stay-at-home-mom, she’s quite clingy.

But thinking about it, I’ve realized that it’s as much about me as it is about her. I first need to be ok about it and only then will I be able to convince her. Kids are really smart about knowing how serious their parents are about something they want them to do. If she detects uncertainty, or even leniency, in my voice when I tell her, she won’t do it. She knows when I mean business and when I don’t!

So I have to think about it a little more, and then break it to her only when I am sure. But, I have to say, I will miss her at night (see what I mean??) – miss peering into her cot to see if her blanket is still on her and to see her angelic sleeping face – aren’t they so very angelic when they sleep!


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Potty training the husband!

My daughter is now two and I have to say that training her to pee and poo was very very easy, I guess I was just lucky, but I also tried hard – used to put her on the pot first thing in the morning and to keep her there I would sing and tell her stories, till she got used to it. She was fully trained at a year and a half. Now it’s only the night diaper that needs to go.

But, that’s where my luck ends. I’ve not been able to train her father!

I was in my room the other day and my daughter said “mama potty”. Now she says potty even when she needs to pee, so I told my husband to make her sit on the pot, since I was busy with something. He took her to her bathroom and after about two minutes I heard him screaming for me and for the maid, who was eating her dinner. My heart sank. In the five seconds it took me to get to them, I had imagined all sorts of gory scenarios.

I ran into the bathroom, as did my maid, our hearts in our mouths. He looks at me and says “she’s doing the real potty!!” he was close to hysterical.

I stopped in my tracks and blinked. “Potty?, that’s it?”

“Real Potty!” he declared again.

My daughter was amused:”Mama, dad does not know how to clean potty!”

My maid looked at me and started laughing (it lightened the mood I have to say, I was pretty mad)

I could not believe it. He looked at me helplessly, and said: “I don’t know what to do”

Me: “Don’t know what to do!!! Stick your finger in her bum and wash it!” (In India we use water to wash)

He handed her to me, saying: “I am not good at this stuff”

Me: “I was not born knowing what to do, try washing, it’s really not that hard!”

He could not do it, has not done it once in these two years and I guess he’s not about to start now.

Go, guess who was left holding the baby? Yup, yours truly.

I could train an eighteen month old, but that’s not possible for her thirty-something father!

What can I say, except “aaaaggghhhhhhhhhh!!!”


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My greatest fear is getting bigger..

I’ve given up work for my daughter, now two. It’s something I wanted to do, but also, it’s not like I really had a choice either. I could hardly leave her to a maid for the whole day, since none of her grandparents, for some convoluted-yet-understandable reason or the other, could baby sit her. In India, let me add, it’s very common for the grannies, especially, to do so. But in my case, it was not to be.

So, I quit work and sunk deep into domestic life, and you know the thing about that, it’s like quicksand, once you’re in it, you only sink deeper – you’re at home, so you handle everything, there’s no escape. Before you know it, you’re up to your head with all sorts of home-running issues, you have no time for yourself, you don’t care about your appearance and life runs you by.

Then, one day, you meet an old classmate who heads some firm or the other (everyone heads divisions in companies these days, makes you wonder where all the followers are??) Anyway, you meet this all tip-top (Indian phrase for someone nattily turned out) person who tells you how hard she’s working, but how great the money is, and all the rest of it. That’s when you look at yourself and wonder where your life is heading, and that thought does not lead to anywhere good, you don’t like what you see in your future. It’s when your mother’s words ring loud in your ears and you try and brush them away – that in a few years your kid will be grown up and would not need you that much, but by then you’d have been out of the race (it’s all about being in the race, unfortunately) too long and people would politely tell you that, sometimes not so politely.

But what can I do? I am not sure. What I know is that I am going down a path I never thought I would, and my biggest fear is that a few years down the road, it’ll hit me and I’ll lose it..it’s my fear and, what’s worse, is that I know it well might happen, yet I keep walking down that road..

Men don’t understand it, they never will, because they never face it. It’s not fair.


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My enervating stomach flu, and my two-year old was a sweetheart though it!

Been so sick the whole, what’s it’s been, don’t know, been more than a week now..intestinal infection or something like that. It was debilitating and I was smart enough not to drink enough water, so guess what, I almost landed myself in hospital! But, long story short, the doctor fired me (as did my family…) and I sulked in bed sipping oral re hydration salts in water for three days! But, at least the hospital was avoided, if only by a hair’s breath.

So this is when I thank God for being in India, because I just handed my daughter to my maid and didn’t know anything for all that time. But, in my waking moments I was worried about her, wondering if she was able to cope, was she cranky? Did she feel sad..

But it amazed me how resilient little kids can be. My mother always told me that but I had my doubts. Now, however, I don’t. My daughter was amazing through it all. She would run up to me in bed and say “mama, ouchie okay?”. I’d tell her I was better and then she’s run along saying “mama got ouchie in her tummy”. She ate, bathed, and even slept without me even so much as getting up (to the extent that, I must admit that happy as I was about this development, I was a tad bit disappointed that she was quite cool about it – I consoled myself by saying that it was because she could still see me and so was not insecure!)

But this incident made me feel better, well, mostly, about her adjusting to my absence if I were to take up full-time work. I was always told that mothers worry more than the kids, and, though I still stand my ground (because there are times when the child will not co-operate!), I am now willing to listen to the other point of view..

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