Monday, December 26, 2005

Good night to you too....

The brat is sleepless in suburbia. Slept at 2.30 am last night. Hadnt slept through the day. Spent the entire day in a flurry of activity, and squeezed every bit of energy from a zombie like me, who had sleepwalked through the entire previous day. Au result--I have racoon eyes today. Add to this the cold and cough which is already plaguing me and brat and you have one merry momma. Took the brat to the closest mall--Inorbit--for a dekko at Santa Claus and for the sponsored Christmas party. The mood at the mall was spend spend spend. So we did. Spent some time that is. Too broke to spend any cash. He's already been introduced to Santa Claus at his playschool Christmas party where he had gone dressed up as Noddy, complete with pola dotted scarf, blue conical cap with a bell, and yellow convertible. Only he got onto stage and howled the daylights out and miffed up any chances of coming home with a prize. The carefully tutored phrase "I am Noddy" was consigned to the dustbins, only to be revived and shouted with frenetic energy all through the next day and night at home. Where of course, it was of no use to anyone, except himself. Coming back to the Santa Claus at the mall. He was of course, a commercial Santa Claus, and had a long line of kids queueing up to see him and have a word or two, but our little fellow would have none of it. So he ditched the line and decided to make a short cut to the stage only to stand in front of the speakers from the blaring music system which was spewing forth dance tracks from the latest Hindi films. Coming back to last night, he spent a couple of hours trying to make a bed for himself in a cupboard and shouting I am Noddy at periodic intervals. Merry Christmas to you too! Bring on the rum, need a high.

Monday, December 19, 2005

No admission to Billabong

So the final list is up, and my adorable darling sweetheart of a brat hasnt made it. It hurts. Believe me it really does. Considering he is too young to understand the rejection, it feels like a personal rejection of all that makes him special to us. Morever I fail to understand the criterion with which the selection has been made, and any attempt to ask the lackeys at the counter the reason or the rationale behind the shortlisting was met with the stonewalling response of "Its a management decision". Uneducated school dropouts working as TV artistes have got their kids into the school, but we, as post graduate professional parents havent. Looks like the glamour factor is all that Billabong wants in their school. There wasnt any interview process nor any parent meeting. Now comes the search for an alternate school---wonder how the brat will fare in the so called interviews. Its criminal to put such young kids through interviews. I know already that Krish will not respond, he's too stranger shy. But anyway, it is my duty to try to get him into a good school, and if the process means interviews then so be it. But very disappointed with Lina Asher and her Kangaroo Kids, Billabong and the entire hoopla. All I want to know is what is the criterion for rejecting the application without even meeting the parents.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

To Potty, to potty

Finally the potty took us to hospital. Five days of no expurgation, and immense misery on the sixth. Straining, fainting and no amount of enema, suppository or laxative doing the job. Panicked and took the poor chap to the hospital. Turns out it was the right decision, and something I should have done much earlier or the waste matter could have turned toxic. Three enemas in the hospital, administered by qualified doctors too didnt work. Finally dilation and manual evacuation did the trick. Poor child. He's down to 11 kilos from the chubby 14.5 he was earlier. My heart breaks whenever I look at him, a skeleton of his earlier self. Anyway, back home now. Milk and bottle has been stopped cold turkey. He is being overdosed on salads, fruits and fluids. Medication still on to keep stools soft and regular. And miracle of miracles, he is finally eating. After two months of living on milk and fresh air, the child actually is asking for regular food. I want to get down on my knees and thank all the gods who looked after us. Moral of the story--dont delay treatment until it is too late. And if your child is one of the unlucky few who suffers from constipation get him on a fruit and veggies diet pronto and cut out the milk.