Sunday, May 15, 2005

Lil Potty Hoarder

The brat is at it again and no amount of cajoling, coaxing and suppositories are going to make him give it up. His potty that is. He shows every sign of wanting to have a bowel movement, the facial expressions, the grunting and straining, the arched back and the tightly jammed together legs--to ensure that nothing of his precious hoard is lost. The agony is unbearable. For me. Knowing that he has three days worth of undiscarded waste matter in his body makes me terrified of the final expellation and the sheer agony that he will undoubtedly undergo. Been reading up all I can on the subject and the final analysis is that I have done all I can on the subject--milk of magnesia and suppositories included and the only way the brat will let go is when he is ready to do so, or when he is old enough to understand that some movements, especially the one's of the bowel variety are best done seated. Till that day comes though, we will continue to hold cupboards and lean against walls to move our bowels.
Au consequence of this self imposed anal retentiveness, we have seen our weight drop down from an awe inspiring 13.5 kgs to a measly 12.8 kgs, and have also dropped down on the cuteness scale thanks to the loss of the chubby factor on the cheek bones. There will be all the time in the world, I tell him, to get that chiselled jawline and the cutting cheek bones, but this is not it. For the here and now, some flesh on the face and the rest of the body is ideal. But, kids will be kids. And this chappie, already devoted to Jennifer Lopez and Priyanka Chopra is set on his grooming schedule. Dig the nose once, examine matter, pop in the mouth. On that gross note, I leave you to ruminate on why must we poop.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Vaccination time

Its that time of the year again and am I dreading it. Vaccinations looming large for a week now, and fickle hearted momma has been postponing the inevitable. The agonised wail at the prick of the needle into thigh or arm or wherever the particular vaccination has to go, and the resultant swelling, pain, fever and two days of crankiness and clinginess are not something that one looks forward to. But, as a necessary evil, it has to be done, or does it. Recent reports about scary side effects from vaccinations really set my nerves on edge, but a calm and trustworthy pediatrician, Dr Tushar Maniar, has assured one umpteen times than vaccinations are safe and necessary and the miniscule proportion of children who do suffer from side effects doesnt warrant not going in for vaccinations. The primary fear with Krish is that he is prone to febrile seizures and non febrile seizures, so the onset of any kind of fever, induced through vaccinations or illness, is something that has me all in a panic. Nonetheless, vaccinations, I have been assured are a must. So one will. And if you too are concerned about the possibility of side effects if you're getting your brats vaccinated, check these links.
http://www.cdc.gov/nip/vacsafe/concerns/side-effects.htm
http://www.cdc.gov/mmwr/preview/mmwrhtml/00046738.htm
http://www.cnn.com/HEALTH/9910/22/vaccine.safety/
Happy shot day to you too!

Lil Mr Chipko

A long time since one has updated the blog, and apologies to my few readers (who hopefully have been checking in). Circumstances of being stuck at home with a clingy child and an unwell mother in law have necessitated this leave of absence, which, at the end of two weeks had me tearing out my hair in a most unmaternal fashion. By the end of it all, was all too ready to hand parcel over to a complete stranger saying here now you handle this piece, I need to go to the loo. Anyway, return of angelic sis in law from her vacation within a vacation to Pune has enabled me to escape to the office for a few hours everyday, and hence this post.
An alarming development over the past couple of weeks has been the morphing of a perfectly friendly and amiable and most importantly, non clingy brat into a glue creature. I have now a well developed muscle resting firmly on my left bicep where hitherto there was only flab, the result of constantly toting 14 kgs of squiggly brat around the house, park, mall, garden...putting feet to floor has become anathema. Mommy is here, mommy's sole task in life is to be handmaiden and serf to our royal self, and therefore, it goes without saying that mommy will carry me. Has to carry me. Or else. Or else includes tantrum throwing, head banging, foot stamping, ear splitting and heart wrenching howling, and copius tear shedding (which considering his constipation problem, I shudder at thinking of the added loss of water from body). In the park, other children months younger than brat squeal and run around happily chasing nirvana in a beach ball, while brat clings like a marsupial to this tree trunk. Feel like a sherpa at times, toting along brat through a supermarket even when a perfectly cosy trolley is available, and doing the one handed manouevering of item selection, placement in trolley, moving trolley through crowded alleys and insensitive other shoppers, and then paying for it all with brat firmly lodged in arm takes some doing.
At home too, freedom means brat is asleep. All the wakey hours are spent devising ways and means to fray already on edge nerves. Some of which involves clinging to foot like a koala bear.
Yes, yes, it does feel great to feel so wanted. Just you wait till you have, just have to go to the loo. Now. Gerroffmyfoot.