Monday Monster

The week begins. Thanks to a wonderfully spent Sunday, there is a freshness in the mind and body today. I bid goodbye to the little monster at the school gates, and as usual waited for a few minutes, to see if she will turn around and look for me. In earlier days, she would. Now, well integrated into it all, she usually doesn't. She walks in purposefully, her mind scheming about something or the other. Little monster, did I say? Generally, not so little. This morning when I woke her up, I marveled at how far down the length of the bed her feet reached. But amidst the bigger kids (who were hanging around today at the school, perhaps we were a bit early or something), she looks tiny.

My heart felt a pang as I saw her walk in today, her left hand clutching the lunch bag, the giant school bag (not that heavy!) on her shoulders, her hair sticking out a bit in the back of her head. I was yelling at her in the car for contemplating single digit addition - a matter I feel she must have incorporated into her very being. Perhaps I forget that she is a 4 ft tall, 7 year old child. Or perhaps she is just yanking my chain. Or perhaps it all doesn't matter much. I recommended that she close her eyes and see the pattern there. She smiled knowingly - I know that she thinks that many of my statements of that sort are funny, that I am funny, and my geekiness knows no bounds. She has a bit of my geekiness, I suppose, but also a bit of her father's bluster. Anyway, we did some multiplication, rather successfully, in the car. It was during that exercise that I found it necessary to comment on the slowness in adding 7 & 4 (rather coincidentally her current age and height in appropriate units).

Is Math the most important thing in life? Sadly perhaps, I feel so. I still feel giant pangs of regret that I did not take to the theoretical aspects of the subject as well as I could have. I am occasionally ashamed of myself for using that beautiful thing as a work-horse to solve my problems. I hear my father's slightly disapproving voice when I contemplate performing computer simulations, instead of understanding something through pure thought. I longingly read about olden day scientists who could solve things based on pure thought. Even as I note in my calendar for the summer months (yes, its still summer here), '2 hours or reading', everyday. Reading others solutions to and definitions of problems, for inspiration for my own research. Even as I comment to my husband and colleagues and students, that reading has really taken a back seat in today's computer age, when it could be the opposite, considering how accessible books and journal articles are, and the g0d-send that acrobat reader (free) is.

And in the middle of it all, is the unbidden thought that my little monster, my smart-alecky, slow-eating, dream-world denizen of a child, is of un-quantifiable importance to me. There is an emotional quality that is quite unexpected at times, that hits me between the eyes (like a wet fish). Yes, its a lot of work, this whole parenting gig. But thats nothing compared to the cornucopia of feelings that flood through as one sees a child learn - that light in the eyes that goes off when she 'gets' something...

Further Tales of Monster & Mom

Monster has started opening up pretty well to people. I am thoroughly impressed with how she suddenly starts talking to my (adult) friends, of her own free will. I have seen this happen with lot of other kids and wondered why monster never does that. I mean, once you hang out with us for a bit (and, preferably, stay overnight), she will be all over you, especially if you solve puzzles with her or something, but at first instance, first meeting, her instinct is to ignore your existence.

So when she walked up to this tall lady and said something like 'Your son keeps telling people he is in fourth standard' - I was too happy with her initiative to realise what it was she was doing.

The next day the boy comes up to me in turn and says 'Aunty I never said that. Monster is lying'
I said what I thought was non-commital enough - 'Its okay dear, I will talk to monster'

Then monster came out and before I could even tell her anything, the boy goes 'I have told your mother now that you were lying'

Its like such a small deal, right? I mean, the kid is in kindergarten and claims to be in fourth standard. Or, monster has imagined the whole deal - this is not a big stretch, she does, several times, its not a voluntary need to lie, its just that its crystal clear in her head but has never happened in reality. To me, either way, its a tiny little thing and I am concentrating on getting home and boiling milk and wondering if veggies need to be bought.

Suddenly, monster starts wailing. Howling. She is crying with heaving sobs, you know, like really crying and not like a tantrum-my I Want This Else I Will Cry And Embarass You type way (Oh Yeah, she does that too, so sue me). I am totally lost, WTH happened here? So far, I have not said a SINGLE WORD to her. I have neither scolded her nor made fun. I have said my usual set of 'hmmm' reserved for things kids say that I don't know what to make of.

"Oh you never listen to me"
"Oh you hurt me so much, you are so terrible"
"You always think other kids are right and I am wrong"
"I feel like being like a donkey and kicking"
"I am not even going to come inside, I am sitting in the car and crying, I am so hurt"
"That boy just wants to save himself by denying everything"

I am like, hello, can we like relax already? I feel like giving her a whack of course, its been a long day, and that kicking thing is really too annoying for me. But thankfully, I just felt so bad, my heart actually took a tiny leap. I mean there are times when people say things casually and to me its super hurtful. Surely, as a child, I was very sensitive about stuff people said to me, and when I thought they were making fun of me, or I was (what I thought was) wrongly accused of something. Lying, cheating, being selfish, jealous, these were things I thought were so absolutely terrible that if I was accused of such things I would go absolutely nuts. Then my parents would say something like 'Oh you are so short tempered' which would make me even more angry (of course!).

For like the first time in her life, I actually understood what she was going on about with a totally unreasonable bout of crying. She just thought that I thought she was lying outright. But really you never know with these kids, and anyway for me it was a small thing. So first of all I kept quiet. I let her yell and rave and rant. When I could insert a word or two I told her a couple of things very calmly. Then I went away to the kitchen and started my milk and coffee stuff and ignored her. In like four minutes she showed up and said sorry. I told her I did not mean to hurt her and whatever the issue was, it was too small a thing for us both to fight about. She said 'I know that now but I did not realise it then' or something totally adult sounding like that. And we were good.