Postcards from Daycare

Every evening when Tara returns home from daycare I rush to the car to get her and look at Mr.Shandekar and say "Can I have it, please". It meaning the note we get from the daycare talking about how much food Tara ate (All/Most/Some Of) how many diaper's were changed (D/W/BM) and how long she napped. The part I have a bitter-sweet feeling reading is the personal note from her teachers on how she did that day.

"She did have some meltdowns but Linda kept her busy"

"Tara had a tough morning but the afternoon got better"

"Tara had a great day. She was smiling so much"

"Tara had a good day, a little crying in the morning but enjoyed the rest of the day"

"She really enjoyed her mashed potatoes, she even had seconds"

These notes make/break my day as I dissect them in great detail to figure out how long my baby was crying. She does seem to be improving. I'm told that once the afternoons get better the mornings follow and she'll be skipping along to daycare in the not to distant future. As soon as I get her from the car seat she rests her head on my shoulder and pats my back as if to say "it's OK mom, I'm fine". I've posted some pictures that Tara's teachers have sent us over the past week.

In other news:

Tara has really started communicating. In the Gymboree class the instructors starts of every class with "What are our toddlers called at this stage?" in a singing voice and we adults give him the bored I'm-spending-a-Saturday-in-front-of-a-clown-give-me-a-break look before he yells "COMMUNICATORS!". And we go yeah-right, yawn. All Tara wants to do is chew Gymbo The Clown's feet so please can we just let her do that. But that dude, is right. Here are some samplers of Tara the Communicator.

- Her vocabulary has increased tri-fold. The lodi-lodi-lo, go-ga-pa, pa-ma-da has been replaced with bow-wo-wo (dog), bao (ball, balloon, bubble), mum-mum (food, still no ma-ma damnit!), be-be (baby anytime she see a kid), hiiiiiiii & byeee in the most sing-song fashion ever, kah (car) and finally the annoying but perfectly articulated pa-pah.

- She plays telephone with us. She picks up the toy telephone and plops it behind her shoulder and we have to say "hi, Tara how are you" and she gives us the biggest smile all along trying to balance the big-ass toy.

- As soon as we give her any sort of cuddly toy she pats it and puts it to sleep. All we have to say is jo-jo to the toy and she slaps the crap outta it.

- She's picked up some new signs too. She signs for book, thank you and cheese. She even gives us a flying kiss. The other day we were in a restaurant and she kept sending some kisses over to this pretty hot chap across from our table. The dude was most impressed and was bragging to his fellow chaps about it when Tara started blowing kisses to all of them. Way to go, missy.

Finally my favorite picture of the week

Week 1 of real Parenthood

I think the title says it all. We are tired out and I have no energy to type. Here are pictures of the first week on our own.

1) Rise and Shine (don't miss the fly-aways of her hair, cute no?). She was making a fuss to sit in the highchair so I plopped her on the floor. Very soon the cheerios go from table onto the floor anyway.


2) Ready for Daycare. Co-ordinated from head to shoe. So my mom laid out the clothes, but, give me credit for atleast dressing her up correct.


3) Back home. As soon as she returns Tara yanks her shoes and socks off and then spends minutes (I secretly wish it's hours) trying to put her sock back on.


4) Showered and ready for her fruit salad mush. Ok, so it's missing a little mint on the side, but do I really need this look?


We managed to get outta the house this weekend as thankfully the snow was long gone. Went to the Olympic Sculpture Park that opened over the weekend. We went around looking at each display going "huh?". I couldn't make any sense of it all. Tara enjoyed the people and the dogs (there were bazillion) .


Posted a bunch of new pictures in the Year 1 album.

Not-so Top Chef

We've had it so easy with my Mom being around that we are going through some major withdrawal symptoms. As most of you know I can't cook 2 minute noodles (Uh-Huh, I end up always cooking it to a mush don't ask how but I do). So when Mom showed me the preparation that goes into Tara's meals I was kinda petrified. Here's one sample meal plan.

Wake-up milk: 1oz cold water + 5oz hot water need to be mixed with the formula because the spoilt brat drinks warm formula and not the convenient-straight-out-of-the-refrigerator whole milk.

Breakfast: 7 grain Indian thingamajiggy which involves slowly simmering the grains with 1/2 cup whole milk, 1/4 cup water and 1/2 tsp of sugar. This thing needs to be stirred constantly and the minute I step away it turns into a lump of crap which adheres to the bottom of the pan. No amount of scrubbing seems to get it off (Take thank you Oxy Clean guy!!)

Daycare: Phew

Evening Snack: Peel and cut gala apple in small cubes. Cook for 6 minutes. Cut 1/2 banana and add to cooked apple and grind. Add sugar to taste.

Dinner: First cook the rice and strain out all the starch. Next pressure cook the lentils with a bit of salt, turmeric and 1 chopped tomato. Then boil the broccoli in a bowl of water. Mix Rice with lentils, add 2 cherry tomatoes, 3 baby carrots and pressure cook for 1 whistle. Remove and blend together. Add Ghee (Indian butter but bloody fattening) and salt to taste. Put broccoli on top as dressing. Serve warm.

Night-Cap: Warm milk. I know you must be thinking by now just heat the water to a point where it's warm and forget this hot/cold business. Trust me I've tried it, if I heat the water for 1.50mins it's too hot and 1.45mins it's too cold.

HEEEEEELLLLLLOOOOOOO ?!? Feel my pain?

I boil the rice and lentils together. Cook the broccoli in the microwave and just blend the whole thing into a mush. Obviously, when you are used to cooking a la Giada De Laurentiis and get Emeril Lagasse (yes, I consider myself on par with Emeril cos every time I watch his show I think to myself "I can cook better than that!"), you are bound to, well, puke. Which is what Tara did.

To end the day perfectly this happens.

She tripped on a toy, and fell face first onto the toy chest. Her top tooth cut her bottom lip. I freaked out seeing all that blood. Me, who watched a surgeon replace my ACL and not break a sweat, Me. Mr.Shandekar rushed home and said relax put some ice on it. He, who pussied out and took anesthesia when his ACl was replaced, He.

I have a feeling my mom is at the BA counter booking her next trip back.

No women, No cry

There has been a lot of crying at the Shandekar residence of late.

Tara started daycare a week or so ago and it's been a complete and utter meltdown. She was fine on Day 1, had that curious look on her face as if assessing the situation from a CSI episode. She figured it all out by Day 2 and the wailing, the clutching on the legs with the puffy eyes started. As soon as we take her into the room she starts to wave bye-bye to all the teachers. I hid behind the class peering into the window to see her sobbing with her arms stretched out. I broke the hell down. If it wasn't for my friend Lakshmi stopping by at the right minute I would have emptied a whole box of Kleenex. They say it takes 2 weeks to break the child in, ouch.

Not that this crying was enough my mom left for India today. We've been spoilt rotten having her around for the past year and it's time Mr.Shandekar and I become REAL parents. Change some diapers, puree an apple, sing hush little baby don't say a word and try to hold back our tears. My mom has done so much for us it's insane. In the past couple days she organised our closets, ironed all the clothes, cooked enough food to last us for months and even laid out what Tara should wear to daycare. I wish I grow up to be half the mother she is. Having spent this time with her I've realised that basically she's always right and I wish I'd listen to her more during my own growing up years. I thought I was daddy's-little-girl but Mom, I am yours (Sorry Ol' man).

Leave you with a conversation Mom had with Tara yesterday.

One

She came into this world with eyes wide open and a look of avid curiosity. When I held her in my arms, in an epidural/morphine stupor, all I could see was her pitch black hair and clear black eyes starring right back at me. I was so nervous that I was going to drop her and somehow break this thing of beauty. But she just lay in my arms so naturally, perfectly, so very silently.

How she has grown since then. Every tiny little thing she does makes me what to shout out to the world and envelope her in a million kisses and then some. She has enriched our lives and made it so worth living even when she refuses to eat/sleep/sit-still or passes the worst smelling gas e-v-e-r. When I'd return home the only thing I looked forward to were the Netflix dvd's but now I'm greeted with heart-melting smiles, furiously waving arms, kicking legs, wet slurpy kisses and dirty diapers. If I had the energy to stay awake all night just to watch her sleep, I'd do that in a heartbeat (Real World marathon, take a hike).

Thank you Tara for brightening my life. For bringing our family closer together. For making a mother out of me, for better or worse. Most of all thank you for helping me miss my father less but think of him more, every time I look at that dimple you inherited from him.

Happy Birthday, my daughter.