Thursday, 4 March 2010

"General Musings From A Mind Spent In Leisure"

Who needs Toys-R-Us when you have a 3 year old in possession of a small plastic cup and a limitless supply of ants to capture and crush?

This is how I found Dumpie last night happily amusing himself on our kitchen floor as I came out of the shower. Egg as usual was practising his 'letters' (ie. painstakingly trying to perfect his messy penmanship in the little worn notebook the husband bought for him awhile back).

It was so hot and humid last night, that after evening showers (where thankfully, all those in possession of a 'winks' have one together), it was all we could do to just find some solace by perching under the nearest ceiling fan set on high.

Poor Egg has come to hate showers, putting up a fuss and crying most nights - lamenting his 'London baths'...poor dear. It seems that Dada's 'in-and-out-method-of-quick-cleansing' isn't to his liking, so on a few occasions I've had a shower with him and gently let him take his (very long) time getting slowly wet and washing his sandy little body in his own time. As a 'pleasure bather' I totally get it.

Dumpie on the other hand is usually naked and wielding the power hose before anyone else has even gotten their clothes off. He sprays himself in the face, giggles, and doesn't mind getting wet at all. But trying to catch the slippery little squidget when he's all soaped up and ready for a rinse is like having a buttery eel slither through your arms. And don't even get me started on trying to get him dressed. He runs, he hides, he laughingly lets you put one little leg in, then before you can hurriedly shove his other leg into the pant hole, he's quick as a whippet taken the other leg out and you have to start again....and again...and again....(until you give up and let him almost fall asleep naked before dressing him in the dark.)

Egg continues to daily inform his teacher that he learns (and I quote) 'absolutely nothing' each day (sigh). We've clearly come to the conclusion that we have a very clever little boy on our hands who LOVES to learn, and that perhaps the laid back 'Steiner' approach isn't perfectly suited for his driven little mind, but it's the best we can do out here in the sticks and with all of our supplemental material he won't miss out on anything anyway. I suspect he's starting to wear down even the teacher as she's gone from total disinterest to acquiesence regarding us bringing in some harder material for him to study. Egg is nothing if not doggedly persistent, and shares with his father the occasional inability to detect or decipher even the most obvious of social cues (and clues) - like when a party is nearing the end and the hosts are yawning and the husband suggests another round :)

Dumpie now spends everyday all day ordering me to find and purchase two 'Light Sabres like in Star Wars' (and he's pretty exact about this next part) with "little buttons on the front you press to make them light up", so he and Eggie can play 'Hiy-Ahhh' (think Karate talk) outdoors. He is quick to reiterate the outdoor part, as we have banned him from bringing his big sticks into the house as they not only cause great injury to whomever gets whacked, but are also damaging to glassware and large televisions perched on wobbly plastic tables.

Dumps continues to amass his large collection of big sticks from all over the area, thereby being ready to 'fight monsters' whenever the clarion call goes out. (I don't know if it's in anyway related, but the little garden outside our house is gradually losing it's barrier fence, and the poles do seem to be the exact size of the ones Dumpie is mysteriously it would appear he is possibly dismantling it gradually so as not to draw attention to it...)

This morning, going for a run in my crazy shades proved worthwhile. So intent was I on avoiding the ground (which truly, thanks to Indian optometrist trickery, does appear to rise up to meet me) that I distracted myself from my aching lungs long enough to run an extra length of the beach. Saying that, an old rave tune did come up on shuffle on the old ipod so I pretty much did it without realising, but still...was the highlight of my day so far.

No. Scratch that. It's Thursday. The highlight of the day shall be in half an hour when the husband and I drag ourselves off to our weekly appointment with Dr. Jonny.

Dr. Jonny and his silent (but strong) little wife, administer relief to our aching muscles, as we lie side by side on the beach in a bamboo hut, a giant reed wall separating us, with only the electric fan whirring constantly above us and the odd imperceptible moan (usually from me) to break the reverie.

Paradise has some upsides. I must remember this tonight when we're lying humid and comatose in sand-ridden sheets...which despite frequent washing, never really get clean.

And I won't even go on about the contant state of grubbiness the monsters are now operating in. With a bit of photoshop, blackening their blond tresses, they could easily be extras in a poster advertising the plight of local street children.

I suspect in another month or so, if they learn a bit of hindi, we might actually be able to put them to work on the beach collecting Rupees from F.O.T.P. (Fresh Off The Plane) tourists. It's worth a try...


  1. Glad to hear they are going native! Even if the lack of warm baths takes some getting used to (and I can sympathise with that).

    Littleboy 1 is slowly dismantling the fence in our garden, too. I keep finding wooden planks strewn over the grass whenever the snow melts. What is it with sticks - both of mine are obsessed.

  2. aw, great to keep up with your goings on. big love to you all! rp

  3. thanks for sticking with my mad rambling of a blog... :)

  4. big sticks...little sticks...their 'sticks''s never ending really isn't it? :)


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