so, what does she want to do?

first born's back from college visits, so 'has he decided what he wants to do?' is the question of the month. since i really can't say 'he wants to laze about and make lots of money' -it reflects poorly on my parenting skills- i smile beatifically and say 'culinary school, or business, but i think he's leaning towards business.'

sometimes the follow up question is 'and what does chellam want to do.'

usually i'm sane enough to respond with the polite and vague '13 is a little early to know, isn't it?' even though i'm actually thinking, 'heck you're 40 something and it's obvious you still have no clue about what you are doing!'

anyway, back to the question. blame it on 

1 - the late hour - 11.30 at night, 

2 - the 'setting' - we were at elliot's beach sitting on the wall, listening to the waves, enjoying the cool breeze and talking about everything and nothing at all, 

3 - the mood - mellow, relaxed, dreaming about owning a beach house and having access to the wind and the waves any time i wanted, and 

4 - the person who did the asking - my sister, 

that prompted me to blurt out, with more honesty than was strictly needed-

'oh she wants to travel around the world and shop, and fill her cupboards with jimmy choos!'

oops... what happened to the 'plastic surgeon/chef/IFS/fashion designer' and even 'global retail merchandiser' i had rehearsed just for this moment??

first day at work

originally posted in to 'the wind and the trees'

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today is my first born's first day at work. all of 17, he's got 2 months before he gets into his final year of high school and is doing an internship in a local 'star hotel' kitchen to see if he can kick the food bug, or if he cares enough about it to succumb and go to culinary school.

he's working split shifts - 10am - 3pm, and from 7pm to when ever the restaurant kitchen closes - close to midnight, i think. between golf in the morning, and an hour of gym in between his shifts at the hotel, he's got more than his share of things to keep him busy.

today, he came home after shift 1, and gave me a colourful picture of the workings of a hotel kitchen (i'm glad i'm not vegetarian, and even so, i wonder if i will ever eat here again!) 

here's a snippet of conversation between washer-upper and my son - 

washer-upper - dai, entha ooru, coimbatooraa? (where are you from, coimbatore? there's no word that describes the 'dai' accurately. suffice to say it's an extremely disrespectful way of addressing someone)

my son - aamaa, yaen? (yes, why?)

washer-upper - athan, vaaya thoranthale theriyudhu, pattikkaadu! (it shows the minute you open your mouth, bumpkin!)

after i picked myself up from the floor, wiped my eyes, and stopped laughing long enough to speak, i asked him if he minded. after all, he was used to being addressed as 'thambu,'  a form of thambi (younger brother) a term both respectful and affectionate, by the staff.

he shrugged, 'why should i!'

yes, this holiday/ internship would definitely do him good, and if nothing else, it certainly should be interesting!

football games and report cards

we were out at dinner last night, and got into our mullum malarum for the day.

'football was a good thing about my day,' my chellam said, all smiles, 'when they audition, i'm going to be selected for the team.'

pointing out that auditioning happened for plays, and trials for games, i asked if her game had improved; the previous year, she had been kicking more air than anything else.

'ma, i'm one of the best, okay?' she protested. 

'in my class...(pause)

in my section...(pause again)

among the girls...'(long pause)

and then she laughed, 'my section really sucks at football. all the best players are in A & B, but in my section, i'm the best.'

then came the where the 'nameless hot place did that come from!' comment that left me speechless...

'hey, but how would you know what i'm good at, anyway? you only notice the red marks in my report card!'

no, i'm not going into details about the hours spent on the football ground cheering her on, or the zillion other thing that make me an involved, enthusiastic, cool, caring, sensitive, and totally awesome mom, but amazing, isn't it, what the view looks like from the other side?

the hug

time - 1.15am chellam and i have just finished tidying up her cupboard, except for one shelf, because she is 'too tired and sleepy and cranky' to do anything anymore, and i'm in no mood to tackle it by myself.

chellam, snuggling into my arms- mmm...this is so nice. i don't remember the last time we slept hugging.

me - chellam, we do this every night!

chellam, opening one eye sleepily and giving me one of her 'looks' - ma, i meant the last time we did this when i was conscious!

admit it, you love my brother more!

'mmmaaaa?' 

how well i knew that honey dipped tone;  it meant my chellam wanted something i wasn't going to want to give.

'yes chellam?' my eyes remained glued to the computer, hoping she would believe i was working and leave me alone.

no such luck; she pounced. 'can i take tomorrow off?' 

aha! she had exams coming, and wanted to stay home, listening to taylor swift, pretending to study.

'you're not supposed to guess so easily,' she pouted, 'what if i was sick or something! i could be, you know!'

much coaxing and cajoling and smiling and sweet words, accompanied by promises she had no intentions of keeping followed.

'i swear i will study.' she said. mmm yes, and i was next in line for president of the country!

'it's not happening chellam,' i repeated, now on auto pilot, 'not unless you fall down the stairs and break your neck,  or something.'

foolish words, but no sooner were they out of my mouth than she ran up the spiral stairs, slid down three steps, and clutched at her neck, moaning and groaning in a manner that would put a ramsay brothers ghost to shame. 

eyes flashing up from the computer screen, i checked quickly for damage. none, thank heavens. i hadn't threaded my eyebrows or upper lip in 6 days, and god knows i wasn't prepared to face super bright emergency lights in the hospital! 

finally, fed up of trying to convince the 'heartless adult', she rose from this pretend swoon and, voice quivering with outrage, declared, 'you don't love me. you only love my brother. otherwise why would you let him get away with all sorts of things, and yet be so mean to me?'

oh god, i wasn't about to feed that monster tonight! instead, i asked her, and very nicely too, i must say, to go to bed, and get some sleep.

furious that she could neither have her way nor argue about it, she snapped, 'just admit you love him more, ok? just admit it ma. life would be so much easier!' and stalked off to her room.

i had thought these very thoughts 25 years ago, but never had the courage to say it to my mother. did i believe it was true then? yes of course, and it had hurt like crazy. did i still believe it? till a few years ago, yes. then i stopped thinking about it. i didn't make comparisons anymore.

later that evening, after her brother came back home from a movie, i sat with him at the dining table, and we spoke about what happened.

'you say i make you out to be the villain of every fight between you and your sister, and take up for her raja, and she says i love you more. funny how differently both of you see things, isn't it?'

'yes ma, and you know what, you can't change my mind,' first-born said, looking up from his mushroom dosa, 'and you can't change hers either. there is no winning this particular battle ma.'

and therein lies one fundamental truth of raising more than one child- each believes the other is loved more. talk about parenting being complicated!

the cast, crew, and the reasons why

why this blog? for three reasons

one - to maintain some semblance of sanity in my life by giving me much needed child related rant space,

two - to keep the 3.5 readers of my other blog to the wind and the trees from running away, as they surely will if i inflict this upon them, and

three - i promised my chellam i would one day write a book called 'growing up with shivi,' and this is my memory jogger/record keeper/witness of truth

the cast and characters

heroine - shivi, 13yr old girl teen, referred to as chellam in happy times, overly fond of shopping, and of the colour pink, fitting neatly into almost every cliched slot there is for 13yr old girl teens overly fond of shopping and of the colour pink

everybody else qualifies as sidekick, or as it is so beautifully said in tamizh - jaalra. in order of importance

brother - referred to as first-born or raja, exists solely to make her life miserable (according to shivi), also serves as a life raft in the stormy sea that shivi's mother is tossed about on

mother - me

father - referred to as nana, long suffering provider of gadgets and funds for shivi's other mad escapades

assorted characters playing the roles of friends, foes, teachers, and sundry relatives make sporadic appearances.

this drama is set in the lovely south indian city of chennai.

read on.