Language Barrier

The elder child goes to an international school. Which means this is a school where every child, on average speaks about 3 languages fluently. Feeling woefully inadequate since both kids now speak just one language passably and although they understand the second perfectly, refuse to communicate in it, my inner dragon mum arose with a roar and I decided that I would speak in only the mother tongue with the kids, until I could show my face in the international community again as a mother of multi-lingual children.

So, the next morning, as the kids come down, sleep-addled, I ask them in Tamil to hurry up and drink their milk. Five minutes later, I seem to have the need to repeat the same instructions in a louder tone (still in Tamil) to kids.  A further two minutes later, I’m loud enough to rattle window panes and I have to ask the kids if, overnight, they seem to have contracted a sudden case of deafness. To which the elder one nonchalantly replies, ‘Oh, sorry, Ma, since you were talking in Tamil, I assumed you were talking to Appa.’ Grr. Of all the times to ignore adult conversations, they choose the one time I’m not having one.

Undaunted, I continue with my endeavours with the Tamil conversation throughout the morning. The kids, also undaunted continue to listen to all I have to say and just answer me in English. This is so not going according to plan! I am resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall. Right, I retreat into the kitchen and over the course of preparing lunch formulate a new plan. At lunch, as we are sitting down, the younger one asks ‘what’s fo’ lunch, Amma?’  I ignore her. ‘Ma?’ asks the younger one not one to be deterred easily. This ignoring thing is such fun, I think to myself. And I’m barely able to complete the thought before my head is suddenly whipped around, and I’m staring at a pair of round eyes millimetres from my face. And the question is repeated at ear-splitting decibels. ‘WHAT’S FO’ LUNCH, AMMA?’ After the ringing in the ear subsides, I calmly inform the crew gathered around the table that I shall only understand conversations in Tamil during the course of lunch. The husband looks at me like I’ve announced that I want to run away and join the circus (actually, given our daily antics, that wouldn't be too far -fetched), snorts and asks me to pass the dal. The kids initially try to get me to answer them despite their use of English and as I continue to ignore them pointedly, settle into sullen silence. It’s actually quite nice for a while, to have lunch in relative peace and quiet, without constantly having to play judge and jury.  And then slowly I see an evil gleam creep into Child No.1’s eyes.  Looking to Child No.2, he says, ‘you know, now that Amma says she can’t understand English, you can talk about that secret thing you did, and she won’t know at all.’ Child No.2 gets an equally evil gleam in her eyes now and she responds. ‘Oh. That thing. But Amma will never find out about it. Unless it starts to smell. Will it smell?’ And both of them erupt into a fit of giggles.

Unbelievable! Kids, who mere seconds ago were at each other’s throats have now developed camaraderie to the point of ESP! And what was the thing they’d done? And where?  I feel a trickle of sweat running down my back as I picture my lovely silk sarees smelling of God-knows-What.  Or finding something squelchy in my best, going-out-to-an-event-that-requires-heels shoes. No. I wasn’t going to admit defeat to a couple of things barely knee-high. And through gritted teeth I tell them the consequences of finding something unsavoury where unsavoury things ought not to be. In Tamil. The husband at that point politely points out that that is the sort of language that he was hoping the kids wouldn’t learn. And at that moment the kids decided to miraculously pick up the language and started gleefully yelling out those lovely Tamil words at each other.

I have now resorted to saner methods of introducing Tamil to the kids – tamil soaps, hoping that they will pick up the language if they hear enough of it. Sadly, the only thing they seem to have picked up from the soaps is the drama. Like we didn’t have enough of that in the house.

Leave Them Kids Alone!

I am not usually a parent who rants. I believe every parent has their own style of parenting which they trust is in the best interest of their children. So it’s largely live and let live. After all I’m hardly a role model for the ideal mum. I shout when I get upset (which is quite often) and I sometimes DO take the easy way out after a particularly hard day if it’s going to get my kid tucked into bed early.

image courtesy: http://www.jennifermariepuglia.com/

But recently I came across this event on one of the many online mummy fora I’m a member of (To assuage all the guilt of yelling at the kids when rushing about for school, I suppose) which had me foaming at the mouth. This claims to be the ‘India Kids Fashion Week’- the name itself suggests that it’s wrong on so many levels I wouldn't know where to begin.  But, I thought,  maybe, I read wrong, this may be an event for the trade in the kids fashion industry (which in itself had my hackles up, but hey, I may be in a minority here, after all, Baby Gap seems to laughing all the way to the bank), which meant it catered largely to adults. And to be fair, this is what the ‘About us’ said. It creates a ‘win-win’ situation for everyone concerned.

Right then. By ‘everyone concerned’ do they mean the kids involved as well? Because I'm struggling a see a single ‘win’ in this entire sordid contest for the participating kids. From what I understand (again, I have garnered this from the website), parents pay a fee for their child to be an entrant in this fashion event – ostensibly for training and personality development. Because surely a four year old needs to be trained to have a personality to carry off a frock. Or shorts. Because of course we think clothes and fashion at the age of four (or fourteen, or even forty for that matter) is an integral part of building our self-esteem and developing our personality. 

The ‘agreement’ on the website further goes on to state that the agency is in no way responsible for any mishaps or injury to the participants of this misbegotten venture and will not be liable for any compensation or insurance. Now granted this may be standard wording thought of by the company lawyer to cover their collective behinds when the shit hits the fan, but why isn't this sending off alarm bells in ear-shattering volumes in the parents’ heads?  And oh, here’s another gem I'm quoting directly from this ‘Agreement’ : “… I am also agreeing that in a competition the winning or losing is a part and my child will only be judged and rewarded if he is giving a healthy competition to the fellow competitors on the base of confidence…” Brilliant. So if my child didn't have self-esteem issues before the competition, I'm most definitely going to try my darndest to give him/ her one before the competition is through. Because YOLO, dude! Perfect. 

Now I know what some of the mums are thinking – how is this different from the junior talent contests and the competitive exams that we force young children to sit through in our country. And you’re right. Perhaps those are equally traumatic. And detrimental to the well-being of the children. But one does not lessen the deplorable nature of the other. And so, here I am, raising my voice as the concerned  mother of a four year old who doesn't need to be judged by how she can carry off a piece of garment.  I'm raising my voice as a concerned member of society who doesn't like the message these events are sending to our kids. 

Have kids? Must travel!

The hubby and I love travelling.  When we first met, we used to take off practically every weekend, when my job allowed it (my job involved a lot of travel as well. I thought it was one of the coolest parts of the job). Then we had a kid. And another. (Don’t worry, we’ve stopped now). But we still love travelling. And the question I hear most often from friends is “How do you do it?” Well, it’s largely on a hope and a prayer, and yes, a teeny tiny bit of advance planning. Otherwise, for the most part, travelling remains a much-loved family activity. Along the way, we’ve managed to learn a few things that make the vacation stress-free (for me) and (hence) enjoyable for the family. 

... Read on here