Graduation

This was the Tings last year at his Graduation from Pre-K to full-on Kindergarden. I am the consumer all marketers dream of ; The only thing that stopped me from launching a grand Graduation party complete with photo-screened cake of the Tingu was, well, I ran out of time, or I suppose more accurately, in some deep-down place I prioritized other things above his Graduation, because c’mon it was just pre-K but believe me, I feel the guilt. In Hunie-speak,” That’s so Yame!” (Hunster’s a little challenged with L’s these days: “Where’s da Yemen (lemon)?” and refuses to be tricked into uttering the words “yellow Lamborghini”).

Tingu received the award for Class Scientist and based off my reaction I was certain this was the beginning of an academic path that would lead to nothing less than a Nobel Prize . All the more mommy-guilt for lack of party.

This year Tingu got sick days before Kindergarten Graduation so we, I, missed the much anticipated hoop-la at school but he donned his robe and alternated between practicing kung-fu moves and channeling his inner Harry Potter.

We watched his class video at home and read his journal that he had kept for the year. As expected, it was full of scenes of the African savannah and Peregrine Falcons.

This has been the latest obsession – an animal faster than the cheetah. As a devoted mother, I would like to share, I am actually in contact with a ‘Falcon Blogger’ inquiring how to attract and build a Peregrine Falcon nest. Anyone else pursuing similar paths? Tingu found the blogger in the reference section of his library book.

He had very precisely requested the librarian help him find, “A nonfiction book on peregrine falcons please”. She gave a quizzical look, so Tings extrapolated, “They are a member of the raptor family found in North America.” When I asked how he knew that he said David told him. Further questioning, lead to the conclusion that he appears to be on a first name basis with Sir David Attenborough.

Hunie, has also graduated, though more in the self-proclaimed honorary degree type of way.

Actual school photo - I think I had the same expression as Hunie does here when I saw this photo.

Now that he is free of diapers, he adamantly insists on only being called by his birth-given first name and often starts sentences with, “ When I was a child…..”. This, as imagined, is endlessly amusing though it usually ends with a battle-cry and throwing himself onto a sofa.

Similarly, he hurls threats like, “ I am going to baby on you”.  I have never have quite experienced what exactly “babying on you” entails, but I do feel lucky for avoiding it.

Huns also considers Tingu’s friends, his best friends and was absolutely beside himself when they came to play with T, only to find him sick and in bed, and so they took Hunie –alone – to play with the six year olds. Heaven.

Hunie also adopts, confiscates, mimics all things Tingu. What Tingu likes, Hunie, within reasonable Hunie-limits, likes.


For example, Tings obsession with snakes and desire to cure his Nani of her fear of them has fostered Huns carrying ‘Snakey, the snake’ around. Nani, much to the boys' dismay, is still not 'cured' of her snake-o-phobia.

 Tingu has ‘Speedy’ the pet leopard who looks like a cheetah. Hunie confiscated this leopard that looks like a cheetah from one of Tingu's best friend’s homes and named him ‘Speeda’, the Italian big brother of Speedy. Sometimes he is the mother, but usually the brother and always Italian.




I finally built Hunie the train set of dreams (or so I thought) only to be told, “Twans are for babies”. What they do currently love are i-phones, i-pads, i-anything, Angry Birds and their new-found ability to open the frig and self-serve snacks...

We have also been able to graduate to full-fledged bike rides around the neighborhood.

 T remains a cautious, analytical fellow while Hunie in an equally calculated fashion usually opts to take the risk. Knowing this, it is especially ironic that the Tings was all kitted out in helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, etc. and the Huns is so not!

The only time I have seen Hunie a little scared was at the Dentist.

Asking his big bro to hold his hand. 

 The boy's fashion has also graduated to new, worrying levels – from fire shoes to straight up Nike. There was a fleeting trend of superheros and lights but it did not last long (luckily). They want Nike shoes, socks, shorts, shirts and Tingu searches for the ‘check mark’ on clothing! This started as soon as the school year was out and no uniforms. We don’t have TV and I can’t imagine Kindergarteners discussing apparel so I am at loss as to where it comes from…

 Luckily I do still see glimpses of my five year old in all this – below is where is crawled on all fours for a quarter mile acting like a dog. Yes, that’s Tingu – feral child or Little Lord Fauntleroy.

He has taken to striking this pose of smoking a pipe in the convertible, I can only imagine what passer-byer's must think....

I once heard someone note in a commencement ceremony "It is unimaginably hard to stay conscious and alert in the adult world." I think about that phrase often. This blog brings a level of alertness to my days. I notice I am finding as much enjoyment in the mundane gaps between milestone moments as the moments themselves. For those of you who know me, you know that a departure from my usual philosophy. My own personal graduation. Here’s be being alert and present in whatever you do every day - Happy Graduation!

Ebb, Trickle, and Flow..

Now that the weddings are over, the acquisition is done, and I have reached three star status on worlds 1&2 of Angry Birds, I can focus on weening my three year old off the pacie and diapers.

A couple of months ago, my sister admonished me about the latter, noting that Huns really ought to be potty trained by now and obviously I was working too much and missing out on key milestones in my childrens’ lives. At this rate, I would have wild feral children tromping through the woods.

Perhaps she is onto something...

Truth of the matter was, I had been trying to get Hunie potty trained for a year but not with much real effort aside from removing his trousers whenever he was at home. Thus a ¼ of my pictures over the last year look like this:

business on top, party on the bottom…?

In retrospect, I wonder what the heck I was thinking. From the Hunster’s perspective, trousers, and other articles of clothing, are so irrelevant to the equation and yet such a visible marker to other adults. Maybe I was hoping a super-nanny type would swoop down, see my trouser-less child, immediately realize he was ready for potty training, take him to an warm inverse fairy-tale like beach locale (so his bum wouldn’t get cold and where 1 month over there would be 5 minutes in the human world) and bring him back…..trained!

No such luck and in fact we found out that Hunie would be detained in preschool if he could not master the toilet by 12/31/11. Instead of advancing to the Toddler Discoverer curriculum it would be Toddler Travelers and the baby playground forever … oh Hunie! So B and I came up with a strategy.

We decided to incentivize him with M&Ms – brightly colored, easily stored, high levels of chocolate gratification in small quantizes, low cost per piece, minimal impact to baby teeth and the final kicker – the blue dye is linked to reducing spinal cord injuries. We would place the M&Ms in a clear jar in the bathroom and take him every 30 minutes. 1 M&M per successful flush. A win-win for all.


We believe in insurance

Fall of the Management Consultants : Huns wouldn’t take the bait. So I added reading books, on the toilet, to the list. This started turning into story time in the bathroom – yuck. His teachers took him to the big kid playground to show him his new digs if he would relinquish the diaper. Nada. Enthralled by the toys but still adamantly refusing to utilize the toilet.

The Hunster fought back mightily.

In desperation, I made him start smelling the M&Ms. He would inhale deep breaths, wince and turn his head away. I would make him smell it again and again and again. Finally I could see his resolve being to crumble. Yes! More deep breaths of M&Ms. His willpower was shaken! Aha! I could see the longing in his eyes. He asked to touch them but that was forbidden.....until a flush was necessary.

I am happy to note success soon followed however in Freak-o-nomic terms we have been gamed. Three M&Ms were demanded and as a first time treat, I acquiesced. Never acquiesce. Once the dam is broken, it is done. Marginal cost economic scale broken on both emotional and physical levels.

Hunie now goes to the bathroom and flushes every 5 minutes looking to be rewarded with his obligatory 3 M&Ms.

Furthermore, his agent/broker, Tings, also demands a cut for each time his brother goes.

Living the high life. This little dude, in all seriousness, would call the attendants from the stall in fancy hotels in India to come flush the toilet. Serious. Oh and Grandparents, that band aid is for dramatic impact only. Nobody was dropped on their heads.



Conclusions - Invest in M&Ms and good toothpaste – I don’t see this ending anytime soon.