I am daddy

The little one has a new fad now. Walking around wearing daddy T-shirts and claiming "I am daddy!" It is hilarious. Caught her on video when she was least suspecting it.
We had fun yesterday at Big Trees state park which was a 3 hour drive away. We also visited a mining town that has been preserved to look like the early 1900's called Columbia on the way back that reminded us of our trip to Ballarat in Australia many years ago! It was one tiring trip for the kids who did 2 mile walks and some steep climbs to get to the Stalinslaus river. Now the little one has a cold and both kids are going through Daddy withdrawal symptoms as I make my way to spend this work week in Austin. Time for her to grow up and be daddy! .

Neeyum Naanum (you and me)

Watched Abhiyum Naanum on DVD. It was a great movie. Came out teary eyed in a lot of places. First real sappy daddy movie to hit the screens in a long time.

Even the big girls were all wiping their tears, possibly thinking about their dads?!

Most of the things in that movie have happened for real in this house. The girls as much as utter a sound, daddy will be right next to them. The alert level in the house for the girls getting hurt is always at Orange, much like the San Jose Airport since a few weeks after 9/11. Daddy is still designing airbags in his sleep that will make sure that there are no scratches on the kids if they get in an accident.

If this movie captured our past and present very accurately, then it is offering a very scary glimpse of the future for daddy.

There is a lot of growing up to do, for sure.

Just remembered this post and the comments that followed! It is not going to be easy for me to see my girls say bye to me.

Funny thing is they already know that they can live without me but it is me who cannot live without them and this theme came as a self realization way before this movie was made!

Hell, I should have scripted this movie. Okay, just kidding..

Those occasional flashes of truth fade into the background in an instant and we are back to the "my child" obsession.

One thing is for sure. I treat my FIL with a lot of respect. He is the only person who could put things in perspective for me when my kids decide to get married. Not my wife, not my parents, not my kids. Only the FIL can give me advice on what it means to become a FIL myself someday.

Maybe he has no profound wisdom to offer me and will brush it aside with stuff like "achcha baba" or "chalta hai" or some such thing which leaves you staring into space going "what was that?" , or maybe he will take me aside and bare his soul on what he was thinking at my wedding....or maybe he will start a school for prospective FIL's and offer coaching classes?

Only time will tell.

Hopefully by that time, this dad will be wiser. One can always hope, no?


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Around the world in 80 clicks ...

After a long time, a tag, thanks to Gauri, originally started by HBM, whose blog I had never read till this tag started.

A tag that was ciculating amongst the mommy blogs over the last one week. Read at least 12 posts on this chain on my blog reader, enjoyed all of them and just when I was thinking, "hmm why won't they include a few daddy's in this loop?", Gauri sends me an email.

The people who get this tag are Terri, Anu, Animom,
Swatantra,
violet,
and Witchyangel.. if she chooses to accept this tag and come back to blogging! Hey, one can always try...I know you read this blog every once in a while.

The rest of you that were obvious choices have either completed an entry, don't want to blog and only comment or have not declared to the world that they are soon to be mommies. That said,


Here is the first five things that came to mind when bringing Jr. and the little one to the brains foreground:


1. The little one comes running to me when I pick her up from school. The smile on her face when she comes and gives me a hug, the pride in her eyes as she looks back at her friends at the sharing table that says "He is my daddy and he loves me, see..." that has got to be way up in the top. Almost always makes my day. (jr. doesn't want to leave the playground these days, but she used to do the exact same thing three years ago). There is unconditional love there and sometimes makes me wonder if I was like this at 3 or 6 years of age. My parents told me, yes. I definitely love my parents, but this glow is something very special.

2. Watching the little darlings grow up and the challenges they throw me! Last night mom and grandma had gone to the airport to drop a cousin with clear instructions for me to put the kids to bed. That was when Jr. started wiggling her tooth. She spent the next forty five minutes in front of a mirror wiggling it and made me disappoint the ladies. It was so much fun watching her wallow in self toothery! (that is another thing I love about being a dad. get to coin terms like self-toothery)

The video taping finally distracted her and got her away from the mirror




3. The things they say and do that is just outright gorgeous, funny or ridiculous, but all of which end in a big hug or a kiss.




The on demand fake crying, the angry looks that melt into a smile, the tantrums that make mom's mood swings look like tyres on a rope from a banyan tree, the list just goes on..

4. The constant thought of these gorgeous creatures leaving us someday after they are all grown up. Dad's IQ in the eyes of his girls has fallen more steadily than the stock market over the last six years. The "Daddy you are sooo smart" has slowly given way to "You don't know anything daddy!" while his patent count has steadily increased and even online IQ scores seem to suggest otherwise.

Guess, IQ is in the I of the beholder.

5. The obsessiveness with which they support me. They are my biggest fans. They will defend me against anyone and everyone, including but not limited to mommy and grandma. If she feels that daddy is being cornered the little one goes to the extent of screaming "why don't you go cook or watch TV or something and leave my daddy alone!". Jr. will promptly redirect the ladies to their laptops and ask them to leave me alone. From reading this blog, to watching and appreciating the few things I cook, to admiring my music, they are really my biggest fans and somehow I never disappoint them.

What more could you ask for?


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Happiness is..

The first time I actually participated in any underwear purchasing was sometime in high school.

Till then, it was totally done at the parent's mercy, mostly my dad's. They would guess our sizes and buy us underwear. The sizes would be +/- 10% and if lucky we would grow into it within the year! If not, we will suffer through it till a parent or grandpa figured out that something went horribly wrong and correct the mistake.

Around the time in high school, there was one trip to what was Hari Textiles in Mylapore where an old gentlemen who owned the store engaged us in this three way conversation:

Dad : Sir, payyanukku size 70 jatti oru ara dozen edunga. (Sir, get my boy 1/2 dozen briefs in size 70cm)

OG (older gentlemen) : (Looks up and down, it was more like up at my dads face, down at my waist then up at my dads face again. Scratches his chin with style that would make Dumbledore proud and pronounces his verdict) Payyanukku 75 podunga sir! (make him wear 75 at least)

Dad : Ille Sir, 75 romba loosa irukkum. Neenga 70ye kudunga. (No Sir, 75 will be too loose. Give him only a 70cm)

Me : (my happiness literally hanging in the balance) Why don't you let me try it on and I can tell you if it is comfortable!

Dad and OG seem to look at me with disapproval. That worries me because as agreeing adults, they could suddenly unite and come to a consensus. The fact that there was no 72.5cm option to average out their opinions made me even more wary! What if they settle for 70?! So I put on one puppy look for OG's sake.

OG : Jatti ellam try panna mudiyaadhu thambi. Venumna ippidi vachchu kaataren..(you cannot try on a brief. I can place it on your waist and show you). goes on to place the 70 along my waist!

Doing some instant Pythagoras calculations in my head using my waist size, distance between my navel and my you know whats, with some coefficients of elasticity of common cotton fabric thrown in for good measure, horror of horrors, the thing looked like it could be a close call!

Me : I will go with 75cm!

My Dad looked disappointed, either with me for not taking his side or at OG for having the balls to contradict him in front of his son...

Dad: Sure'aaa da ? (Are you sure?)

Me : Yes. Sure!

Dad : Okay Saar. 1/2 dozen kudungaa (give half a dozen). Make sure you give him only dark colors. He likes dark colors. (For once he was right. In those days, there was a strong liking for dark colors).

My dad would treat buying underwear for me or my brother with the same seriousness as he would buy brinjals and okra in the Mylapore vegetable market. Approximately eyeball quality or quantity, start bargaining, purchase!

Five minutes later, after settling for a 10% discount as repeat customer, we both walked out happy! Dad with the 10% price reduction and me with the 6.66% size addition.


Since that day(to the present), 99% of the brief purchasing has been done at the same Hari Textiles store in Mylapore. One thing has been constant. It has always been the same VIP brand with a simple red tag across the front of the waist band which said "VIP" with the size in cms written on the side.

99% because I did stray from being loyal to HariTex and VIP during a three year continuous stint in the US of A. If you are making a trip every two years or every year in some cases, you can predict sizes and purchase accordingly. Three years on the same size with cheese pizza as your main diet can cause some serious issues. So there was a "brief" fling with Jockeys.

The rest of the purchases, all in 1/2 dozen or dozen quantities have been made at that Chennai Landmark. Well, it should be a Landmark, because that place and that man have single handedly ensured that many TamBram boys have retained some semblance of a sperm count, in spite of their dads doing the undie shopping for them during their most important years!

In short, a whole generation of TamBrams owe their existance to that store and that salesman. Now why do we reminesce about those good old days?

The recent India trip in September, was wrapped up with a last minute trip to Hari Textiles. (it is almost always the last minute wrap up purchase item!)

Now that yours truly has almost transformed into his daddy over the years, the conversation went like this:

Me : Sir oru ara dozen VIP kudunga!(give me a half dozen VIP briefs)

OG : ?!?!

Me : Sorry. Size 90 oru ara dozen kudunga. (Sorry, give me half dozen size 90cms)

OG : ?!?! (does a Dumbledore again)

Me : Enna Sir yosikkareenga ?(what are you thinking?)

OG : Endha kaalaththula Sir neenga size 90? At least 100 venum! (in which eon were you a size 90 ? You need at least a 100 centimeters now!)

Was a little upset that OG put me aside like a little puppy and in a protesting note stated..

Me: Ille saar. Naan ippo 90 dhan podaren (No Sir. I wear a size 90 now) and go on to pull out the VIP tag from behind my belt buckle to show him the "90 cms" written in size 12 Helvetica.

OG : Neenga 90cm potta romba tighta irukkum. Not healthy. Sadaa irritatedaa iruppenga.. (if you wear 90cm it will be too tight. you will be constantly irritated)

Me : (looking at San who is about to split her sides laughing, and also knowing that OG ranks somewhere next to Master Yoda on the inter galactic intelligence scale, somewhere higher than even my all knowing dad!) Neenga sonna sairyaa dhan Saar irukkum. Size 100-e kudunga. (If you say so, it will be right. Give me the size 100.)

Some people never learn, and some people here is just an indirect reference to myself!

After coming back from India, a week or two went by before one of the new 100cms was picked at random from the brief drawer.

That entire morning went by with me walking around work with a noticeable difference in my level of chirpiness! So much that at the lunch table a friend commented "What is up with you? You seem to be very happy and comfortable today!"

The "comfortable" word connected a lot of dots in my head instantly. It was noticeably obvious. The secret to the local happiness was found. It was the luxury of 10 extra centimeters of elastic around the waist and Pythagoras working his mathemagic away from the hypotenuse.

Happiness was,is and will be, wearing the right size underwear!!


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We don't want that!

A conversation overheard...

Jr. : Don't paduththy daddy (do not touble daddy)
LO : (nods head vigorously and says) Ok. I know, If we paduththy daddy then he will die and then we will have a new daddy and we don't want that, right ?
Jr. : RIGHT !!

Daddy is a little disturbed right now!

No, this is not aananda kanneer (happy tears) that the girls don't want another daddy or daddy to die!

This is worry that they take it for granted that they will have another daddy? They have picked a non worthy replacement already ?

That is scary!


ps. (for those of you who saw my facebook entry, you should know that this comes at a very disturbing time..).

pps. for those who do not know, a new colleage at work comes to my desk, looks at the first portrait that San and me posed for 10 years ago and says "Hi, you used to be a handsome guy once!".. she said that without any remorse, not batting an eyelid, just matter of fact!! Had no answer to that one...

ppps. for those of you who are wondering where all the hansomeness went, look no further..(one of the photos from that set is at the bottom of this post)..



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Restrictions

Daddy is allowed to wear one of eight or nine T-shirts, total!

Anything else is not allowed.

The little one screams her head off!! if daddy wears anything else.

Turns away from daddy. One minute she is clingy and the next minute she is absolutely horrified that her daddy has become a shirt, coat, different color T-Shirt wearing monster!

We had observed this once before when daddy took a red T-shirt from the "archives", and wore it for old times sake, and she screamed. So, the T-shirt was changed again quickly, just to stop her. Not much was made of that incident.

At a company anniversary party, daddy decided to wear his old Tuxedo and she would refuse to come to him. To daddy's horror, she never came near him at the entire party and clung to mommy the whole time. Everyone called daddy a horrible liar for claiming that the little one was attached to him at all times!

Today, it was a 100+ degrees here! Came home and removed the T-shirt and stood in the hallway for a minute in my baniyan(in shirt). The little one starts panicking again.

LO : "Daddy, please wear the shirt. Dont be nanga thanga!(naked)"..
Me : But I am wearing a Baniyan! I am not nanga thanga. It is so hot..
LO : Please wear T-shirt back, NOW!!

and then goes to Mom and complains that she is scared of daddy not wearing T-shirt.

Next minute, I removed the baniyan and wore the T-Shirt and she ran back and climbed on my shoulders, smiled and gave me a big kiss.

Strange.. very strange..

Need to find a way to get her used to a multi colored daddy!


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The under age kid

History has a tendency to repeat itself, over and over and over again. I guess that is one reason why it is still taught to people, so they would learn from the past and move towards a better future.

This is also counteracted by the ability of human beings to forget things quickly and get on with life.. the same life that people got on with a few decades ago and by extrapolation a few centuries ago..

It is true that todays Cyclotrons are a lot more complicated that the proverbial "wheel" invented a long time ago, but have we really come that far in learning from history?

People still kill each other, go take things forcefully from others if they lack a certain resource (it used to be gum arabic, silk, spices, gold, diamonds, now it is oil!) and continue to ignore the past.

All that, was the cynic in me talking. This post is more about something happening in our life right now. Jr. who is a November child, just like her daddy, is having attention issues in school. She is an extremely smart and intelligent kid and is easily distracted, just like her daddy and she does tend to walk into the occasional wall, just like her grandma!

We had a meeting with her teacher who gave us a detailed report card for the Kindergardener and said "she has trouble following my instruction. She keeps looking at what the other kids are doing and cannot focus". She went on to explain how she is the youngest in her class and how it is going to pose problems for her because some of her classmates are 14 months older.

San promptly cut in and said "hubby here was in 2nd grade at Jr.'s age". Being the sincere daddy, I went on to explain to the teacher that I had the same problems. I never went to kindergarten and was directly thrown into first grade at age 4 and finished school at 16 and college at 20 and was in gradschool before I could legally drink in the US. I also told her that my social life wasnt exactly stellar because "having no moustache when graduating high school" was an issue, but I never had any problems with academics.

At this point, the teacher must have seen very clearly why Jr. is distracted (talking to her daddy for 5 minutes would explain that) and asked me "so do you have any suggestions to improve Jr.'s focus?".

Daddy said "Eureka! I know exactly what they did when I was in first and second grade". They moved me to the first row so all I saw was the teacher and the blackboard. Nothing to distract me.

The teacher said, well.. in the US, we used to do that only to kids who were troublemakers. In any case we do not have rows in the classroom till 3rd or 4th grade. We have them sit around circular desks in groups of 4 or 5 so they can learn the value of teamwork!

Where do you sit then, and where is the blackboard ? I asked.

Apparently there is no thing like a blackboard and the teacher moves around the classroom as she gives instructions to kids.

Hmm.. let's see here. You are trying to focus on a certain voice trying to give you an instruction and you have to execute on it. This might also involve looking at a piece of paper or an object that is in the teachers hand and you have to do something on your desk based on that. What would be easier. A fixed location for the teacher directly in front of the student or a moving teacher who could sometimes be talking from your right, left, or even behind you..

Bah!!!! I said and walked out.

Really love the teachers, their enthusiasm and their passion.. but I know myself and based on history and some genetic extrapolation, my kid, and there are no surprises on why she cannot focus. First we need to learn focus on stationary targets before we can focus on the moving targets!

Bah!!! Bah!!! Bah!!!

Now I am going to train Jr. Jason Bourne style on how to follow instructions from a moving daddy..


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Happy Daddy's day

To

Daddy

From

Jr.

Sub : Happy daddy's day.

Dear Daddy,

Have a wonderful Father's day. I know you were invited to my daycare for Fathers day function. That too on Friday evening at 4:00. I know you will have to miss the weekend last minute planning meetings and come, which also means your phone will ring friday night and over the weekend and mommy will do "Pilliar eyes" at you all weekend. Thanks for coming!

This year I am surprising you, again! I know how you are really happy with whatever I give you on father's day and act surprised and give me a big hug and a kiss. I have given you trinkets made from paper bits, pieces of cloth left over in the tailors shop, ice cream sticks, old pepsi bottle lids, and things that look like they were picked from the street by my teachers who are hell bent on teaching me valuable subjects like economics at this young age. I also know that you really liked the ice cream stick "I love you daddy" tag I gave you two years ago and display it on the rearview mirror, but the rest of my gifts are nowhere to be found!

This year I am giving you the "#1 Dad" medal. I know you like this one too. You were wearing it even after you came home! But as an additional surprise, here is what I have done with my teachers. We have a brand new mousepad for you with my portrait on it!! Now, now. Stop crying. I don't know if you are really touched by my going the extra mile, or if you are shedding tears for the fact that this daycare actually shelled out money for a gift! Either way, I am happy for you. Now you can finally show your co-workers that you got a commercialized product for a Father's day gift that stands up to those coffee mugs, photo frames, etc. that you will see tomorrow. I know daddy. I know. We live in America.

I give you my usual love and you are still the best!

Love

Jr.

ps. I have another surprise for you. I have taught the little one to say "de da, ove you". I was actually going for "Daddy, I love you", but it is a question of time before she gets the "I" and the "L".


pps. Mommy thinks you are expecting too much. You can't seriously expect to start "onnu vitta mama's rendu vitta marumaan day" just based on the gift potential.

---

From

Daddy

To

Jr.


Sub : Thank you

Dear Jr.,

I actually always love the time and effort you put into the father's day gift. All these things don't really matter. I love you all the same. You already know that you girls have me wrapped around your finger, and you put that knowledge to good use! When I was a kid we never even knew about a special day for father's or mother's. We knew childrens day was November 14th and that too because it was more of Nehru thatha's birthday than anything else. For us every day was father's day. We "paduththied" daddy all the same, on father's day or on any other day. You do the same.

Keep the trinkets coming. Who knows, at this rate, I might actually talk to your teachers on suggestions for next years gift. I also have to go find out if mommy bankrolled the mousepad and is not telling me.

You are a darling.

Love,

Daddy.

Ps. you are doing some great work with your little sister in building her vocabulary. I can also see that you have some strange hypnotic hold over her and see listens to you more than she listens to me. Please remember, we are a team. We are counting on your new powers to help the family.

pps. Mommy tells me that she had nothing to do with the mousepad. I am really impressed wih your daycare now! I will ask for a USB drive with your photo on it for next year's gift. I was not serious when I came up with the other relative's days. It was just to make a point with mommy.

---

From

The #1 Daddy

To

All daddy's out there (with or without the medal)!


Happy father's day!

Sundar.

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Looks...There is more to it than meets the eye!

Warning : If you are not yet married and are considering getting hitched soon, please skip this post!! I really do not know if this will have adverse effects on you.


Was listening to NPR last month on my way to pick up Jr. There was a little piece in "All things Considered" which talked about how women choose their mates!

I have not been successful in finding a link within NPR for this, but here is an altenate link I found on Google which shows that this is indeed an outcome of some research..

Warning : If you have ignored my previous warning and have read this far and you fall into the Ferrari bucket, still actively looking for girls wearing White Salwars, please stop now! If you read beyond this, do so at your own risk!

Enough warnings. Lets proceed with the subject matter. Women select guys who look like their dad. Apparently they not only go for guys who look like their dads but also have similar traits, attitude to work, etc. In short they are looking for a younger version of their father who is not genetically close!

I am going to put this in perspective, on a personal level for the guys! You might have a lot more in common with your father-in-law than you know! Ever wonder how you can share silent moments with your FIL over events that unfold in your house when your wife and mother-in-law are present. Maybe it is not just a guy thing! It is two guys knowing that they share a mutual fate in the scheme of things, except one is going through an action reply, 25 years delayed!

I still remember three guys walking, one behind the other on the pavements of Pondy Bazaar, the day after my engagement, to buy things for my wedding. It was my FIL's FIL, my FIL and yours truly. It was the first time I got to meet and know about these two men! After all, I was going to be the third generation husband, in that family! We didn't speak much. More looks and nods than words were exchanged, on that particular evening. It was almost like a Chinese, Indian and Spanish person trying to communicate without knowing the others language. We still did communicate, and within minutes found that we had a lot of similarities. The three of us had very little in common when it came to physical stature or physiognomy but had very similar views on the few things we talked about! The old man is not with us anymore and I do not know why I keep seeing him in my sleep now, but it was funny, the way he would explain things to the FIL who would in turn explain things to me while we were walking in line!

On a separate note, I do not know if guys look for women who have similar traits as their mothers!! I always wanted to by anything but my father, when I became a dad, and I am failing at it miserably. The older I grow, the more I transform like him! This has set me thinking. I always used to blame my mom for all the things I did not like in my dad. Can I just conveniently blame my current transformations as due to my wife and on a stretch draw the conclusion that maybe my wife has some similarities with my mom ?!

This last line I know, will draw flames from the ladies, might even shut down this blog! But it is worth a thought! Could it be true that you are selected by the woman because you resemble her dad and you select her because she resembles your mom, but she turns you more into your dad than your father-in-law ? This is starting to sound like the story line for a K.B. movie!! I will stop here ...

Like the Shogun says, "Karma, neh ?"


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Another game

No, we are definitely not talking Cricket anymore !

The latest game between the girls is "touch your tongue" or the extreme sport version called "pull out your tongue"! The trick is show your tongue, wait for the other one to try and touch it, but pull it back in, just in time.



Initially I thought this game was gross, but now that I have gotten used to seeing them play this game, it looks cute!

Note how good daddy has gotten at taking these secret videos. Once they found out they were on camera, I had to oblige them by saying Hi to the video!



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Enjoying India.. especially Singaara Chennai..

Looks like the previous post on Jr.'s little autorickshaw adventure, is getting some flame..

I had posted this in September 2006!! So, all too familiar with pedophilia in US of A, that too right in our backyard !

I wasn't trying to make a spin (positive or negative) of the whole experience. I was trying to caution careless dad's like me, who let go of their kid's hands in the street while bargaining for auto's. If I had to write a post on why we bargain for autos from 120 rupees down to 70 to go from Adyar to Mambalam, it would be too long a post, and it would definitely start a comment war or sorts, so I am not going to do that..

The mistake of letting her hand go was mine and I did own up to it ! The reason for cautioning other dads was,

1. do not let your kids go out of reach, period!
2. or at least teach them a local phone number! My daughter knows her address, my cell phone number and where mom, dad work, etc. etc.. She could even direct you to our house by saying "go right, go left..etc" if she was in the local area. But in Chennai, those dont help. We have to teach her the local phone number and address here, just to be safe !

Hope that clarifies things...

As for enjoying India, we are all very much enjoying India.. We invariably always do.. We come here knowing about the mosquitos, the pollution, the autorickshaws, etc. etc. These are small things which we get used to within the first 24 hours of our stay here. After all, I was born and raised in this city and every street, every street corner brings back a flood of memories ! How could you not enjoy it ? The only reason for quoting the Delhi child abuse, was that after Jr.'s adventure, everyone around me (relatives and friends who live here) quoted it and said "things are not the same here anymore..so be careful"..

Getting adjusted to these things is easy. It takes me more time to get adjusted to "raagu kaalam", "yama kandam", "kari naal", etc. etc. in my house. This morning I was about to step out for a haircut and almost started world war III. Apparently haircut on friday's is bad for your mom's longevity, and considering the main reason for this trip was to speed up mom's post surgery recovery by showing her the grandkids, everyone cried "Sacrilege!". In the interest of helping other dads, I have taken the liberty of compiling this list..

Day Bad for

Friday : mom
Thursday : dad
Wednesday : brother
Monday : Sister
Tuesday : First cousins second cousins aunty
Sunday : First cousins second auntys dog (or cat)
Saturday : Safe day !!

(ps. except for the friday part, I made up the rest..I am sure they are bad for someone or other!)

So, that said, all are happy and enjoying our last week here.. Today, we were stuck in traffic in Doraiswamy road. Reason ? a dead body procession at peak traffic time! Jr. couldn't understand the concept. I have videotaped the traffic congestion caused by this procession and the procession itself, including the guys dancing in front of the body! Will add it to the long videoblog that is in the works..

India is India. You can't beat this experience..

One last video...

The trial period on the morphing software ends tonight..

So, one last morph trick before I wrap up. . .





I am glad you liked the previous morph videos.. I got emails that said it looks more like "sun TV opening credits", "Michael Jackson videos" etc..

No one said it looked like the Nijaam Pakku Ad (which I thought was a bad idea to morph faces that have nothing in common..)

Considering my little one is a girl, the resemblence is uncanny.. hope she will take after her mother for her looks as she grows up..