17 Month Bundle of Joy

Maya is almost a year and half old. Some days it feels like time has passed by so quickly, other days it feels like the passage has been adequate. What doesn't change is the joy of waking up next to her everyday, of being thankful for this miracle that was seven years in the making, a bliss that almost didn't happen.

To say that she has been a delightful child is like saying that a gourmet chef's food is heavenly or that a melody is haunting. The words hardly capture the experience.

The Changed Geography Of Childhood

Writing the entry on Maya's romps in the park, I pondered again about the nature of childhood of Maya's generation. Shanthala often reminisces of her carefree childhood when home was a revolving door from school to playground. I hear others speak similarly of their childhood, people growing up in countries far flung from India, countries like Spain, Italy and even the US.

My father likes to say that he is quite modern in his outlook. In some ways, he's probably ahead of his time. Unlike my peers, I spent most of my childhood alone, reading or playing by myself. We lived inside textile mill compounds, sometimes the only family. Even if there were other families living in the company quarters, other kids would not play as easily with me either because my father was the head honcho or because they were not my age. My time with my friends was controled by my parents to once a month outings at their place or ours usually for a few hours only. Similarly, my activities outside of school with peers were completely governed by my parents.

Left to my own devices, I hardly indulged in any form of physical activity, prefering instead to slouch in a corner with my books. Over time, I became quite fat, acquiring that brahmin belly. A friend's mother would often joke that my belly entered their house well before I did. Even at school, I prefered to cook up some excuse to get out of the P.T (physical training) class.

My childhood fits perfectly with how most kids are raised these days in the US. They are chaperoned from activity to activity, are rarely allowed any time without adult supervision and lead cloistered lives. A friend once commented that in this country, parents are more chaffeurs than parents, spending entire weekends driving kids from activity or birthday party to another. Shanthala often says how much she hates orchestrating time for kids to play with each other, those play dates. It is unusual to see kids playing out in the streets by themselves.

This article in Boston Globe, published in January 2008, is one of many articles that I found on the net when I searched for any data on how little kids played outside these days. Here is an excerpt from the article:

'Roger Hart knows this wistful territory better than anyone. In 1972, as a graduate student at Clark University, the young researcher set out to understand the geography of childhood. He journeyed to a not-so-exotic locale -- a village in Vermont -- and spent two years tracking the movements of a species that, remarkably, had never been closely studied in its natural environment: the human child. (At the time, says Hart, "we knew more about the ecology of baboons than the ecology of children.") Running, playing, and digging in the dirt with packs of kids from 5 to 12 years old, he discovered that virtually all of them had outdoor places they considered their own, where they went to hide, reflect, or commune with nature.

When Hart returned to the same town two years ago, to repeat his research and learn how childhood has changed in 36 years, he discovered a universe transformed in a single generation. The children had moved indoors, and the intricate, outdoor play-world they had once invented and inhabited on their own was gone. In the wake of the shift he found nagging questions about its effects on children's creativity and independence. Now 60 and a professor of environmental psychology at the City University of New York, Hart is working on a film and a book about his research, tentatively titled "Childhood Revisited."'

The article goes on to say how his study indicates that kids these days have a hard time spending time on their own, inventing activities to keep themselves occupied. I remembered how a friend's child, raised in the US, had a hard time finding something to do on his own in the absence of a computer or TV. He kept saying how bored he was. An article in LA Times about this subject (from May 2008) states a University of Michigan finding that between 1981 and 1997, "3- to 5-year-olds lost an average of 501 minutes of unstructured playtime each week; 6- to 8-year-olds lost an average of 228 minutes. (On the other hand, kids now do more organized activities and have more homework, the lucky devils!) And forget about walking to school alone. Today's kids don't walk much at all (adding to the childhood obesity problem)."

There is no dearth of articles that bemoan this new geography of childhood, of time with computers and TV and almost complete lack of unstructured, adult-free time. For example, this article talks about a national movement called "No Child Left Inside", inspired by a book called "Last Child In The Woods" by a Richard Louv. An excerpt from the article:

'Louv tagged the term "nature deficit disorder," the physical, psychological and emotional conditions that result from society's increasing alienation from nature. Obesity, stress and attention disorders are just some of its manifestations. Louv's book has triggered a national conversation about the issue, even sparked federal legislation to help fund local programs and the development of school curriculums. It is the springboard for groups all over the country who are working to get youth outside more.'

The article speaks of how the latest edition of Oxford Junior Dictionary cut out terms such as: beaver, dandelion, heron, magpie, clover, otter and others, and substituted Blackberry, blog, MP3 player, voicemail and broadband. It is quite well-known that kids today can identify brands far better than they can identify flora and fauna.

Other articles speak of how kids in day care spend less time outdoors compared to kids not in day care. The causes vary from the personality of the day care supervisors (if they don't enjoy being outside, they tend to not take kids outside) to the nature of groups (if one kid comes ill-prepared to be outside, such as not having the appropriate clothing, the entire class doesn't go).

Why this massive shift in a single generation ? The factors are many. Fear is a large factor. Most parents are terrified that their kids will be abducted and/or killed by homicidal maniacs or pedophiles if left to play by themselves. Litigation is another factor according to this article published in 2006. The structure of our lives is another factor. We live in suburbs, in communities where neighbors hardly know each other and so parents prefer to drive their kids to their friends' houses or to common meeting points. Another issue is the increased urge to enroll kids into every possible activity, to not deprive the kids of possible benefits and to provide a competitive edge. It is also far easier to plonk kids in front of the TV or the computer compared to taking them out to a park.

Many articles speak of the effects of this retreat from the outside and the lack of unsupervised time. They speak of increased risk of obesity (physical activity is one factor, not the only factor of course), diabetes and heart diseases. Some articles also highlight that play and unsupervised time itself is critical. A representative for the American Academy of Pediatrics', Dr. Kenneth Ginsburg testified to Congress in 2006, "Play allows children to create and explore a world they can master, conquering their fears while practicing adult roles. ... Play helps children develop new competencies ... and the resiliency they will need to face future challenges." But here's the catch: Those benefits aren't realized when some helpful adult is hovering over kids the whole time." Then there is the possibility that all this alienation from nature will make kids immune to issues such as loss of biodiversity and open spaces.

People who look at me today may ask, "Well, it doesn't seem that your physical inactivity during your childhood has prevented you from becoming physically fit and healthy in your later ages. So why all this hoopla ? Let's give the parents a break". What they don't see is the struggle I grow through every time I have to lace up for a run. I have to fight with myself from giving all those excuses to not run each time. And as some of the articles state, the issue is more than just health. And I don't think I'm just blaming parents or the modern life. In our drive to acquire the trappings of a successful life, I fear that we're forgetting how to live, we're withdrawing or opting out of making decisions that may lead to greater benefits systemically, for us and our future generations.

Fun In The Park

Maya enjoys being out in the park. The nanny takes her to a park near our house pretty much the entire day, returning home only for an afternoon nap. The park has so become a part of her day that she doesn't eat much solids if she hasn't had a few hours at the park.

Shanthala also takes Maya to the park when she's home and with her. I have been less park-friendly in the past. Since we moved to our friend's house for a short time, I've been taking her to the park a little more frequently. We typically go after she has her afternoon nap and return in time for dinner. Sometimes, we go back to the park after dinner. One of the pleasures of summer in the west is that we can enjoy sunlight late in the day, as late as 8:30 or 9:00 PM.

Parks here typically host a few slides, see-saw, swings and large sections of sandy areas. The park near our house is a lot more crowded than the one near our friend's place. Nannies, mothers sometimes nursing a baby and keeping a watchful eye on their toddler, grandparents and occasionally dads bring the kids to the park. The mothers usually hang together as do the nannies, most of them Hispanic. We end up chatting with some of these people as we stand side-by-side pushing our kids in the swing or when Maya picks up one of the other kids' toys (usually a shovel or a rake).

How old is she, is usually the conversation starter. Most are surprised that Maya is only 16 months old. She's tall enough to look at least two years old. They next comment on her exuberance and her big eyes. Maya takes all this in with a cheerful smile, knowing that we're talking about her. These days she even raises her hand high above her head in greeting.

Initially, Maya just enjoyed playing in the sand, digging with a shovel or shoveling the sand into a bucket. She also enjoys pushing tricycles and strollers around the park. At this age, she doesn't play with any other kid, though she's happy to go greet kids that she takes a fancy to.


Swing was something she enjoyed right off the bat, but the rest she seemed to not fancy much. The slide she completely avoided. Two days ago, something clicked and she hasn't been able to get over the slide. She runs up the steps to the slide, positions herself and slides down to make a perfect landing, usually. Sometimes she shot off the edge into the sand to land on her butt or her face. She didn't seem to mind that, laughing as she picked herself up, racing around to the steps to start all over again.

She's tried several times to climb up the slide. But with her footwear, she never managed to get a good grip and always slid down after the first two or three steps. Yesterday evening, I took off her footwear and she decided to tackle a swing in the bigger kids section of the park. The video shows her try a few times before she succeeded in climbing all the way to the top. Now that she's got the hang of it, she tries climbing up all the slides, one of which is very steep. She hasn't managed to climb to the top of that one yet, but it sure is fun watching her try it.

Two Little Changes

Shanthala commented a few months ago that I spent all my time in front of my laptop. I pooh-pooh'ed her observation with a defensive "I do a lot of things on my computer: write, work, read the news etc". I didn't fail to notice that my defense merely bore her observation out. So, I tried to reduce the time I spent in front of the computer. I tried to space the time I spent checking email; I'll check mail only every hour, I declared to myself. I tried to limit the time I spent surfing the web. Having lived most of my life by Oscar Wilde's credo that the best way to fight temptation is to yield to it, I failed in my efforts.

Another time, Shanthala suggested that we move the round table that passes for a work desk to another room, out of the family room where we spent most of our time. I disagreed with that suggestion, finding no point in it. I told her how I enjoyed listening to music while I worked, a habit from a time when I was still in school. The subject was closed.

This past weekend, we moved temporarily to a friend's house. They own two adjoining houses, one of which they rent out. They were between renters and expressed an interest in our moving in for a little while. They have three children who dote on Maya, we have a wonderful time hanging out with these friends and so we decided to take them up on their offer.

Maya is lulled to sleep by music. It's our nightly ritual. In our bedroom, we have a boombox that I use specifically for this purpose. When we travel, rather than carry the boombox and a large collection of CDs, I use the laptop that has most of my music. So, I setup the laptop in our bedroom.

Five days into our stay, I noticed that I don't spend as much time in front of the computer. It's not that I have more on my hands here than in our house. It's not that there is a lull in the work. Puzzled, I thought about the reason. I realized that with the laptop in the bedroom, a place I only went to sleep, I was never in the same room as the laptop much. This automatically reduced the time I spent in front of the computer. Hey Oscar, a great way to fight temptation is to keep it out of sight. We're moving that table that Shanthala wanted moved when we return. Sigh. It hurts to have her be right. Again.

The Company You Keep

I don't do any other exercise besides running. I do a few weight lifting exercises for my upper body, but those are mostly very short. Running has been the mainstay of my physical regimen. Till I found running, especially long distance running, I found it very hard to stay physically fit. Running three or four days a week, running a half marathon every weekend was something I did quite consistently for three years. Then, something happened. I began to lose interest and had to work hard to get out of the house. Once I was out, it was not difficult to go the distance. But, oh! The reasons I gave for not getting out. The drop in motivation began just a short while before Kitty died. Grief over his passing was soon followed by the relentlessness of parenting and running began to look like another chore to be completed when I just wanted a little time to breathe.

Once I could push Maya in the jog stroller, I began to run a little more consistently, initially. Over the last few weeks, I began to find myself looking for excuses to not run. One problem is that there is only decent running track near our house, the Stevens Creek Trail. Other paths lead me along roads with car traffic and I'm nervous about running with Maya on such roads, even if they're residential streets. I don't care to run on the sidewalk (foot path for you non-Americans) because running long distances on concrete surfaces can damage the knee and hips over time. Ego played a little role too. I didn't want to run if I couldn't maintain my level of fitness, but each time I didn't run, it became harder to maintain my fitness. Another reason is that running was self-motivated and lonely. I ran alone all the time.

Since we moved into our friend's house, I've run four times this week and hope to run at least one more day. Each time has been about an hour with one of them being a hard workout on a day the temperature closed in on triple digits (it was 36 degree Celsius). While novelty is a possibility, I attritbute this sudden change primarily to the availability of partners who wanted to run. I ran with Jeff on Sunday, with David on Monday, Hilary on Tuesday and David again today. I'll probably run solo tomorrow. Less than a week into our stay at the new place, I have made two small, but significant changes.

Two Years

from what we cannot hold the stars are made - W.S. Merwin

Dear Kitty,

It is two years now since that gorgeous summer day that you died. Two years that I've seen and you have not. Two years that you could have shared with me and could not. Shared the joy of Maya, the frustrations, the relentlessness, the exhaustion of parenting. Two years and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you or missed you. And you will remain mine in the ways that I miss you.

Over these two years I've written about what you meant to me. What your loss felt like. What your loss taught me. I've written about your time with us. I've marked time in this blog, with an entry each month on that fateful day. A reader may comment that I've been more faithful in writing about you than I have been in writing about Maya. With Maya, I'm making new memories. With you, I've been a Don Quixote for two years, wrestling not just your death, but the onset of the inevitable death of much of your memories. But, I have managed cheat this other death a little by recording much of your life. Some day, Maya may read these entries and in them, find some measure of who you were.

And now, Kitty, I'm spent. All the tears, the hurt, the grief, the stories have exhausted themselves. Maybe they're only resting a while. But your memories bring a smile to my face now, are no longer only a reminder of the wretched hole in my heart.

For the past three weeks, every morning when she wakes up, Maya points to your picture on the wall, smiles and looks at me. I say "Sweetheart, that's Kitty" and she smiles some more and points at your picture again. In these new rituals, I take some comfort.

All day the stars watch from long ago
Kitty said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know - W.S. Merwin

That fateful evening, on your last ride home, you crawled to the front seat of the car, laid a paw on my hand and rested it there till we reached home. Now I know you meant to say "when you are alone you will be all right". Yes, Kitty, I am all right. But, if you were here ...

I love you my Sirius,

Dini

Maya The Helper

Maya and I have always had a morning ritual. We toss around a little bit till we're awake enough to tumble out of bed. These past two weeks, we've been feeding her her first bottle of milk in bed itself, giving us a little more time to sleep. After she's done feeding, she gets out of bed and picks up my glasses and opening them, hands them to me. That's my sign to get out of bed. If it's a weekday, Shanthala has usually left for work. If it's a weekend, she tends to sleep in a little longer.

I carry Maya down and start my coffee. While the coffee is brewing, I power up the music system. Maya has the ritual very precisely recorded. The moment I start the coffee machine, she starts gesticulating towards the music system. Maya has always been particular about what music she hears at what time of the day. She has a very clear idea of music that is enjoyed only in the morning, songs such as Gordon Lightfoot's Minstrel of the Dawn, Beatles Here Comes The Sun, Mark Knopfler's soundtracks to Cal and Local Hero and Call Of The Valley. I've burnt a CD of such songs and I usually start playing that. For an hour or so after she wakes up, she's still a little sleepy and likes to be held. So, I savor my morning coffee, holding her, listening to the music together. After I finish drinking my two cups of coffee, I usually check email and look at the morning news. By this time, Maya is more awake and she's off running around the house.

In the past two weeks, we've added a new ritual. Maya helps me unload the dishwasher. Initially, she'd just toss out the spoons any which way, making it impossible to unload the dishwasher while she was around. But after a while, she began to respond to my calls to place the spoon in my hand. And then, one day I decided to seek her help in unloading the entire dishwasher and was successful. Here she is, just past 16 months, already a help around the house.

Asperatus: A New Cloud

It was a gray morning as I set out to work today. The whole week has been like that, gray and cloud covered till the sun finally burns the cloud cover by afternoon. It is great weather to go running with Maya. No sunscreen, no shades. She can enjoy the scenery unhindered by the shades. But this gray weather in summer is a little gloomy. The temperatures have hovered in the low sixties to low seventies too. As I stared at the clouds and surfed the web as the company shuttle made its way to the campus, I was drawn to an article titled "Iowa woman's photo sparks push for new cloud type". It was accompanied by a beautiful photograph of rather unusual looking clouds.



Jane Wiggins had stood by her office window watching these clouds form. An amateur photographer, she snapped this picture. She said, "It looked like Armageddon. The shadows of the clouds, the lights and the darks, and the greenish-yellow backdrop. They seemed to change."

No new cloud type has been discovered since 1951. Searching for a better picture than the one in the AP review, I ran across a forum that carried some impressive looking cloud photos. One of the posts also carried a good description of cloud types. A poster called hypewaders wrote: "The basic cloud forms have been defined for centuries, and these are some common characterizations: flat, lumpy, rainy, lumpy-rainy, curly, and high. To standardize (and sound more impressive) it's common to use latin words for these descriptors: Stratus, cumulus, nimbus, cumulonimbus, cirrus, and alto, respectively. There are various compound words made up of these descriptors, like "cumulonimbus" (lumpy raining cloud) for example. Some less common cloud types haven't ever gotten latin names- for example, roll clouds, which are tubular indicators of rather violent rotors."

On that forum, I also read about an unusual, annual cloud formation called Morning Glory in a remote corner of Australia thata attracts glider pilots for the unbeatable gliding experience that it provides. Here is a picture of Morning Glory from the Wikipedia and a story to go with it on Cloud Appreciation Society's webpage.



Reading all this made my morning commute so much more intense. The gray clouds no longer looked gray and dull and undifferentiated. The shades of white that peppered the clouds of gray, the muted colors of the marsh by Baylands Park added beauty to what was otherwise a mundane weekday commute.