It’s been a while since I wrote about li’l Kabir.
When my book on parenting was first published, all my near and dear ones insisted that “I should do another one for Kabir too!” And, my reaction was : “It’s not the writing that’s tough, it’s the ‘getting published’ part!” But, the fact remains that writing about your second child is harder than it seems.
The reasons behind it are many. For one, it’s so much easier for me, as an adult, to identify with my almost-six-year-old who has impeccable communication skills and a much-advanced intellectual development (naturally!) than my two-year-old who has just started on that road. There’s also the fact that every thing was so new and interesting when it first happened… I end up wondering whether or not readers of this blog will enjoy reading similar experiences written about another child, the second time around?
Be that as it may, Kabir is a unique individual who faces the world in his own distinctive way. So, starting today, I’m going to make an effort to blog about him, as often as I can…
Over the past few months, Kabir has gone from “pointing to something and grunting for it” to “trying to name the object in broken speech” to “constructing complex sentences that are almost gramatically sound”. Sure, he still has difficulties with some of the sounds that all kids his age would. But he’s getting better at it, and fast! Not to mention, he’s equally fluent in English and Hindi.
By nature, Kabir is one of the naughtiest and most adorable babies I have ever encountered. Full of beans, he doesn’t tire of energy till the time he retires for the night. He can never get enough of his mama. And, he can never have enough of repeating what his “Khushi didi” says or does, which drives her nuts and provides wholesome entertainment for the rest of us.
Kabir is an outdoor baby. He’s always ready for what he excitedly refers to as “drive-drive”, and enjoys watching the world go by his window, like a happy puppy in the car. He really makes the most of his trips to the garden, and wants to accompany any member of the house, every time any one is going down!
Earlier today, he participated in his playschool’s Annual Sports Day, where he was among the youngest participants of them all. His batch – the Yellow group – participated in two races: Obstacle Race and Socks Matching Race. True to his nature, he gave it his all and had a lot of fun along the way. By the end of it, he’d come first in one race and second in the other!
Too young to even understand the concept of “winning a race”, he was happy to be handed shiny packed gifts, every once in a while, by the organizers. As a parent, I was, naturally, happy to see that my child had won. But more than the victory in the race, I’m even prouder of the way my li’l champ has turned out…
A series of links led me to an excellent writeup on Komando.com listing the 10 Commandments for Kids Online. Here are just a few…
I will not try to win free things or buy things on the Internet without my parents’ permission. If I get a message that I won something, I will show it to my parents. If I get an e-mail asking for passwords or other secret stuff, I will ask my parents. I will never tell anyone online or post online that I am home alone. I won’t give out my last name, my home address or telephone number, the name of my school or teachers, where my parents work or their telephone numbers without getting my parents’ permission. I will never give out my friends’ screen names, e-mail addresses, names, addresses and telephone numbers, and I will remind them to keep mine a secret. I WILL NEVER, EVER MEET WITH ANYONE I’VE TALKED TO ONLINE WITHOUT FIRST TALKING WITH MY PARENTS.
I will not try to win free things or buy things on the Internet without my parents’ permission. If I get a message that I won something, I will show it to my parents. If I get an e-mail asking for passwords or other secret stuff, I will ask my parents.
I will never tell anyone online or post online that I am home alone. I won’t give out my last name, my home address or telephone number, the name of my school or teachers, where my parents work or their telephone numbers without getting my parents’ permission. I will never give out my friends’ screen names, e-mail addresses, names, addresses and telephone numbers, and I will remind them to keep mine a secret.
I WILL NEVER, EVER MEET WITH ANYONE I’VE TALKED TO ONLINE WITHOUT FIRST TALKING WITH MY PARENTS.
This is just an excerpt, of course. And, depending on the age of your child, you may or may not subscribe to some of these. But it’s a great concept, and one that deserves implementation on some level.
It also got me thinking about other things you can do as a parent, to keep your loved ones safe.
Here’s a link to another excellent writeup from Komando on Limiting your children’s Screen Time. It features many useful tips on parenting controls and how to use available Technology to make your job a bit easier.
And, here’s a link to OpenDNS – a (free) service that helps you keep your online environment safe through phishing protection and other forms of security, without the hassle of complicated software installation and configuration.
Safe surfing…
A remarkable article in the New York Times expounds the Power and Perils of praising your kids. If you have children, you simply cannot afford to ignore this finding…
Offering praise has become a sort of panacea for the anxieties of modern parenting. Out of our children’s lives from breakfast to dinner, we turn it up a notch when we get home. In those few hours together, we want them to hear the things we can’t say during the day — We are in your corner, we are here for you, we believe in you. In a similar way, we put our children in high-pressure environments, seeking out the best schools we can find, then we use the constant praise to soften the intensity of those environments. We expect so much of them, but we hide our expectations behind constant glowing praise.
Offering praise has become a sort of panacea for the anxieties of modern parenting. Out of our children’s lives from breakfast to dinner, we turn it up a notch when we get home. In those few hours together, we want them to hear the things we can’t say during the day — We are in your corner, we are here for you, we believe in you.
In a similar way, we put our children in high-pressure environments, seeking out the best schools we can find, then we use the constant praise to soften the intensity of those environments. We expect so much of them, but we hide our expectations behind constant glowing praise.
A series of experiments reveals that it’s not just the praise but the kind of praising that gets different results…
For the past ten years, psychologist Carol Dweck and her team at Columbia (she’s now at Stanford) studied the effect of praise on students in a dozen New York schools. Her seminal work—a series of experiments on 400 fifth-graders—paints the picture most clearly. Dweck sent four female research assistants into New York fifth-grade classrooms. The researchers would take a single child out of the classroom for a nonverbal IQ test consisting of a series of puzzles—puzzles easy enough that all the children would do fairly well. Once the child finished the test, the researchers told each student his score, then gave him a single line of praise. Randomly divided into groups, some were praised for their intelligence. They were told, “You must be smart at this.” Other students were praised for their effort: “You must have worked really hard Then the students were given a choice of test for the second round. One choice was a test that would be more difficult than the first, but the researchers told the kids that they’d learn a lot from attempting the puzzles. The other choice, Dweck’s team explained, was an easy test, just like the first. Of those praised for their effort, 90 percent chose the harder set of puzzles. Of those praised for their intelligence, a majority chose the easy test. The “smart” kids took the cop-out. I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized — it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.
For the past ten years, psychologist Carol Dweck and her team at Columbia (she’s now at Stanford) studied the effect of praise on students in a dozen New York schools. Her seminal work—a series of experiments on 400 fifth-graders—paints the picture most clearly.
Dweck sent four female research assistants into New York fifth-grade classrooms. The researchers would take a single child out of the classroom for a nonverbal IQ test consisting of a series of puzzles—puzzles easy enough that all the children would do fairly well. Once the child finished the test, the researchers told each student his score, then gave him a single line of praise. Randomly divided into groups, some were praised for their intelligence. They were told, “You must be smart at this.” Other students were praised for their effort: “You must have worked really hard
Then the students were given a choice of test for the second round. One choice was a test that would be more difficult than the first, but the researchers told the kids that they’d learn a lot from attempting the puzzles. The other choice, Dweck’s team explained, was an easy test, just like the first. Of those praised for their effort, 90 percent chose the harder set of puzzles. Of those praised for their intelligence, a majority chose the easy test. The “smart” kids took the cop-out.
I am smart, the kids’ reasoning goes; I don’t need to put out effort. Expending effort becomes stigmatized — it’s public proof that you can’t cut it on your natural gifts.
Luckily for us, there are a few things we can do differently…
In the first stage, I fell off the wagon around other parents when they were busy praising their kids. I didn’t want Luke to feel left out. I felt like a former alcoholic who continues to drink socially. I became a Social Praiser… Then I tried to use the specific-type praise that Dweck recommends. I praised Luke, but I attempted to praise his “process.” This was easier said than done… … every night he has math homework and is supposed to read a phonics book aloud. Each takes about five minutes if he concentrates, but he’s easily distracted. So I praised him for concentrating without asking to take a break. If he listened to instructions carefully, I praised him for that. After soccer games, I praised him for looking to pass, rather than just saying, “You played great.” And if he worked hard to get to the ball, I praised the effort he applied. Just as the research promised, this focused praise helped him see strategies he could apply the next day. It was remarkable how noticeably effective this new form of praise was.
In the first stage, I fell off the wagon around other parents when they were busy praising their kids. I didn’t want Luke to feel left out. I felt like a former alcoholic who continues to drink socially. I became a Social Praiser…
Then I tried to use the specific-type praise that Dweck recommends. I praised Luke, but I attempted to praise his “process.” This was easier said than done…
… every night he has math homework and is supposed to read a phonics book aloud. Each takes about five minutes if he concentrates, but he’s easily distracted. So I praised him for concentrating without asking to take a break. If he listened to instructions carefully, I praised him for that. After soccer games, I praised him for looking to pass, rather than just saying, “You played great.” And if he worked hard to get to the ball, I praised the effort he applied.
Just as the research promised, this focused praise helped him see strategies he could apply the next day. It was remarkable how noticeably effective this new form of praise was.
Read the entire essay. This one is a must-read.
An interesting post from MetroDad sparks off a series of thoughts. In it, MD quotes a passage from one of the books presently helping him with his insomnia…
“I have a thing for Dickens. I’m reading his letters at the moment. There are 12 volumes of them, and each one is several hundred pages long. If he’d only written letters, he’d have had a pretty productive life, but he didn’t only write letters. There are four volumes of his journalism. He edited a couple of magazines. He squeezed in an unconventional love life, and a few rewarding friendships. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yeah: a dozen of the greatest novels in the English language. He’s pretty much the one guy whose life you could look at and think, man, he didn’t mess around. But there aren’t many people like old Charles. Most humans don’t get to do work that’s going to last. They sell shower curtain rings, like the John Candy character in that movie. (I mean the rings might last. But they’re probably not what people talk about after you’ve gone.) So it’s not about what you do. It can’t be, can it? It has to be about how you are, how you love, how you treat yourself and those around you, and that’s where I get eaten up.”
“I have a thing for Dickens. I’m reading his letters at the moment. There are 12 volumes of them, and each one is several hundred pages long. If he’d only written letters, he’d have had a pretty productive life, but he didn’t only write letters. There are four volumes of his journalism. He edited a couple of magazines. He squeezed in an unconventional love life, and a few rewarding friendships. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yeah: a dozen of the greatest novels in the English language. He’s pretty much the one guy whose life you could look at and think, man, he didn’t mess around.
But there aren’t many people like old Charles. Most humans don’t get to do work that’s going to last. They sell shower curtain rings, like the John Candy character in that movie. (I mean the rings might last. But they’re probably not what people talk about after you’ve gone.) So it’s not about what you do. It can’t be, can it? It has to be about how you are, how you love, how you treat yourself and those around you, and that’s where I get eaten up.”
He goes on to write about how a certain amount of introspection and fantasizing can actually be a good thing…
All I’m saying is that, regardless of one’s station in life, I think it’s healthy to sometimes visualize or fantasize about the life that you want to live. Frequently, this forces you to make extremely tough decisions that seem painful but may ultimately make you much happier.
And then, ends by asking some pretty tough questions…
In all seriousness, do any other parents out there fantasize about how your life would be different without kids or a spouse? If you’re single or childless, are you living your life how you’d imagined? Why or why not?
Sure, we all have fantasies about living a different Life… whether or not we have kids! So often, we hear well-meaning grown-ups advise younger friends on how they should make the most of the time they have, especially while they are still young, single or childless. But MD’s questions made me think long and hard about this.
As parents of two adorable little ones, me and the mrs. often talk about our love for Travel, and how we need to make the time for it. In fact, we have just started a new saving fund for our shared passion, now that the kids have reached a more manageable age.
The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that it’s not a matter of cramming every thing in your life, while you’re still young, single and childless. For one, that phase won’t last the rest of your life. Besides, your life-circumstances can change quite rapidly, irrespective of how much you planned to achieve in your younger years.
Every day matters. And it’s up to every one of us to make the most of each moment!
And, if that doesn’t work, there’s always the Batman costume or the Porsche, right?!
Simply the best!
One day, at the dining table, Khushi decided to share her learnings on shopping…
Khushi: You know, Papa, I saw some ads on TV that showed three Barbie sets. Papa: Really?! Khushi: And you know, what? It is now possible to buy them! Khushi: When you buy something, you should only buy the best… like I bought the best papa!
Khushi: You know, Papa, I saw some ads on TV that showed three Barbie sets.
Papa: Really?!
Khushi: And you know, what? It is now possible to buy them!
Khushi: When you buy something, you should only buy the best… like I bought the best papa!
How much do my feet weigh?
One fine evening, on returning from a tiring day at work…
Khushi: Papa, do you know how much my feet weigh? Papa: No, tell me! Khushi: 20 (kilos) Papa: How do you know that?! Khushi: In the evening, I stood with my feet on that weighing scale, and it showed me “20″!
Khushi: Papa, do you know how much my feet weigh?
Papa: No, tell me!
Khushi: 20 (kilos)
Papa: How do you know that?!
Khushi: In the evening, I stood with my feet on that weighing scale, and it showed me “20″!
Now, you know!
