First In, Almost Out

Ady and I are usually the first ones to arrive at a party, or at least try to be. Life comes in between in many cases, (read, daughter) and we're then forced to be late. 
But if we were on our own, sans child, we would probably call the hosts ahead, to check who'd be coming and how long before we get back home. Simply put, we're typically the first ones to arrive, the first ones to leave. We're crazy party animals that way, too cool to stay on. (ya, rrrright!)

Ever since the little one arrived, things have drastically changed. We still try to be among the first ones to arrive, because well, she wants us to "get there faster" and she likes to socialize with everyone. Everyone. It's like we're just her chauffeurs taking her to her destination. As soon as she sees people, she'll go talk to them - young, old, small, big - she doesn't discriminate that way. Unless of course, there is a little girl, in which case, she will try and devote a chunk of her time to play with her.  She can ignore all boys as if they didn't exist, if there's a girl around. 

And DD will play, perform (she loves to sing and dance), do gymnastics, till it's time to go. Who decides when it's time to go you ask? Well, it's the mother of the second- last child leaving, because obviously, our child is the last. 

That's probably the only 'punishment' that works for DD. "You will not get to meet people or play with your friends."

Even so, with her power to negotiate and will to never take 'No'  for an answer, she will try to convince us or melt our hearts with her cute little smile,  and innocent eye-batting (they still look innocent).

We dread parties, she lives for them. Today, the only way I could get her out of a serious discussion with her school teacher about the age of her car, was to tell her that we were going to a party and were getting late. "Bye Ms Laura" she immediately replied. "Mamma, I want to change first."
"Yes, your highness!"

While Her Majesty is getting ready, I try to connect with my mom. "We're going out today, 'Ma."
"That's nice. Where are you going?" 
"There's a get-together in her school."
"When will you be back?Your father may want to talk to you. He's not here right now."
"When DD feels like." I say.
"Ha ha. No, seriously." Amma laughs.
I wish I were joking.

A Major Crafts Project

Thanks to her pre-school, DD has immense interest in projects. She tries her hand at creating various crafts but as her mom lacks the tactile skill, she continues with her other passion - art projects.  Art is easy - she doesn't need help there, she just needs to color inside the lines. Well, I at least hope it's not complicated at 5.

It's only when she needs to glue stuff together or sew something, she needs adult support, rightfully so. But instead of seeking help from someone as uncoordinated as Mamma dearest, she'd much rather focus on building blocks or solving Jenga challenges. 

I was OK with all that till, the beginning of this week. DD's just about a week short of entering Kindergarten and that scares me. Once she starts, I know my little munchkin will turn into a super busy young girl. I want to hold on to DD as much as I can and if crafts is the way to do it, well, that's what I am going to do. 

So I brought the idea up to her. "Really?" she asked, half excitedly and half suspiciously. 

"Really"

"Ok!" she exclaimed. 

But what do we work on? I didn't want anything elaborate. She had just seen her grandma knit a sweater and I had clearly stated that that's a natural gift her mother could never acquire. So I was hoping she wouldn't want me to try crochet or some other complicated work either. 

"Let's go search for something to do" she declared. We started prowling around the house. Bead bracelets, she'd already done, rainbow loom - done to death, play dough dresses - done. Something else...God please, something, before she loses interest... and then I struck gold!

I found a pair of old jeans. Ady's of course. "You want to make something out of this?" I asked enthusiastically. 

"What? With Papa's giant pants?"

"Yeah...maybe we can make a table spread?"

"Or maybe we can use the pocket for something?" she said. Clearly the girl was more creative and had better ideas. 

So we set about. She got the scissors and I got the needle and thread. Her broken abacus beads were put to good use and the beads found a home on the pocket. 

So this is what we finally did. I won't lie, it took us 4 hours and I was thoroughly exhausted. I had to sew, remove and sew again multiple times before she was happy with the color coordination. By the time we were done, my faith in my assessment of my talent to create 3-D objects was reassured - I didn't have any and neither did I have the patience to sit through.

But the look on her face, after it was done - totally worth it. I would do it again in a heart beat, well not really. I'm probably going to find another interest in the next few days. "You wanna dance, D?"

Missing Someone to Infinity

We came to India, leaving Ady behind in Seattle about a month back. 
It was a much awaited vacation and D and I were very excited to visit our family. At the same time, we were disappointed that Ady wouldn't be able to join us.

It was a wonderful surprise when Ady did manage to make it to India for a couple of weeks and we did get to meet both sets of parents (his and mine) together. 

When we were about to board the flight, D couldn't curtail her enthusiasm. "Yay!" she screamed, "we are going to India."

"Why do you like going to India so much?" Ady wanted to know. 
"The clothes are so beautiful and shiny and sparkly." she said. 
"So you are going for the clothes?" Ady asked. 
"... And to meet my family - thata, paati, dadda, daadi, bui, my friends and cousins"
"But it's mainly due to the clothes?"
"No." she instantly replied. "Even the jewelry -the bangles, chains, earrings.."
While we were amused with her honesty, Ady really started feeling lonely. He was after all going to miss us for a good month and a half. He hadn't made a plan to visit us yet; if he did, he didn't tell us. 

"Will you miss me?" he asked, hugging his little daughter. 
"Yes!" came the reply on reflex. 
"How much?" the engineering brain needed quantification. 
"Umm.... 100" 
"That's it? I thought you'll miss me till infinity."
"But I can't miss you till infinity, papa"
"Why not? You don't love me?"
"I love you till infinity, papa, but I can't miss you till infinity."
"Why?"
"I love you till infinity because I love you a lot - it's huge and you can just not count till where I love you. But if I miss you till infinity, that means I can't meet you ever again. I want to meet you again papa and I know I will. So I don't want to miss you till infinity."

"That's so sweet, baby" I smiled, hugging papa and baby. 
"It really is" said Ady hugging us back.
"She understands the concept of infinity" the engineering brain whispered.