Every time she says ‘mamma’, the mamma sits up. Strokes her forehead. Emits reassuring noises and the little one curls up for five more minutes. Before the next ‘mamma’ call emerges. This has been on. Through the night. For the last couple of nights.

Earlier today we saw the pediatrician. “Normal”. He said. And added: “Viral”. Pointing in the direction of the door. Beyond which were a sea of tense fathers, worried mothers and wailing infants waiting to get into the room and show him an achy head, a rumbling tummy, a running nose, a burning body. Whatever. Or maybe he meant to be pointing my attention beyond them. Of course, outside his clinic’s door was pouring rain and howling winds.

He wrote a few medicines as the daughter wailed and the missus listened to his every word. He looks at me and said, “You will come here a few times this season. Don’t worry”. And smiled. It was a joke. I hoped it was.

His medicines stand straight on the table. Lording over the assortment of home remedies that have led to almost decimating the barely surviving tulsi plant and emptying camphor box! But our biggest worry has been in trying to get her to eat. Which she has refused with the penchant of a Satyagrahi!

“How will she have the strength to fight this fever”, the missus asks. Almost as though it was my fault. I can’t do much but look at her. And say, “She’ll be ok”.

“You said that three days back as well”.

I stay silent. Not by choice but because I simply don’t know what to. There is nothing to.

The last few days have been a roller coaster of a different kind. More downs than ups. The tacky part isn’t really the ‘downs’ but not knowing if I am ‘thinking right’. Doubts that rage in the mind asking if you are on the right road can obscure the journey and incredibly distort the view.

A similar scale of self-doubt rules supreme today. Do these home remedies work? Are these the best medicines? Did that small exposing to the rain do all this damage? Should we expose her to the elements like we have been doing and keeping it as natural as possible? Or be as protective as some of the neighbours and colleagues are?

The challenge in parenting is that there are options. A multitude of them.

Perpetual forks in the road with no direction sign boards sometimes leave parents tired. It is in these times you look for a North Star to hitch your wagon to and put the car on auto transmission mode. But the truth of the matter is, in real life you don’t know where that North Star is and auto-transmission is not an option that exists. So you have plod on with love and sincerity as the fuel in your engine and hope that the road will lead you somewhere.

As the night wears on, she coughs again. This time she says ‘papa’. And I try and get close to her. The missus wouldn’t have any of it and keeps me at bay by continuously stroking the small burning forehead of the daughter. She struggles to breathe and is now using her mouth.

It’s a sad sight. I can’t do much about it except something that comes naturally to me: wince in my mind. I wish there was a magic wand of sorts. Something to ease her pain. To get her back to bouncy naughty ways.

Soon it is morning. I call my mom. I tell her about our travails of the night. Of her chest congestion. Of the phlegm that refuses to get out. Of the difficulty she has had in eating. I keep pouring my woes. She listens patiently. Just about now and then chips with a sound of sympathy more to indicate that she is still around and the phone connection hasn’t dropped off.

After about fifteen minutes she speaks.

“This is important” she says. “Her body will begin to learn to fight this”, she says.

Of course, I know. Of course. I have read it so many times. Since LKG. Or whenever they introduced biology as a subject of study. And given my antipathy to it, I really think they started that kind of cruelty in kindergarten.

“Of course ma”, I tell her.

Silence engulfs the phone line.

“Hello”, I say again. To check if she is there. “I am here”, she says.

And then says, “You went through all of this as a child. Every child goes through this. It is nature’s way of ensuring that strong wings grow”. She continues for some more time unleashing the botanist in her. About nature and ‘nature’s way’.

In sometime we are going to hang up. She says, “By the way, this is something every parent goes through. Me and your dad went through it to see you through several virals”.

I stare into the monsoon clouds. As they coalesce to form obscure shapes and notice that rain soaking parched land will happen sooner than I was expecting.

“I wonder why the world assumes ‘growing-up’ refers to children! In more ways than one, growing-up is about the parents”.

In some time, it hits me. Ah, rain!

Kavi dabbles in writing, reading, traveling, photography, long distance running amongst other things. He and Shanti have their hands full with their adorable toddler, Kayal. In-between all of this, he gives an arm, leg and everything else to earn a living. Usually accomplished by punching keys, attending meetings and trying to sound profound. He blogs at http://kavismusings.blogspot.com & tweets @kavismusings. Just in case you are intrigued enough to know more about him please head to http://about.me/kaviarasu.

The post Growing Up appeared first on Parentous.

A number of these students are no strangers to coaching classes – since a majority aim for professional courses whose entrance exams are tough to crack. Thanks to an institute that offers coaching classes for these joint entrance exams that approached the school to choose a handful of meritorious students for free coaching, our son also goes to a coaching class.

Needless to say (but I have to say it anyway) time is super tight. We’re enjoying the last week of his school holidays before the academic year begins next week. While I am quite sure that after the initial time management struggles he will settle down to the new routine, I have to confess that I secretly freak out thinking of how he is going to juggle school, school work, coaching classes and the related assignments and tests and music class with practice sessions. Oh, not to forget his hobbies, being an avid reader and devoted artist.

As my head silently reels, I am thinking of ways to keep him mentally and physically healthy so that he can handle the various pressures that go with his territory with ease. I realize we must have a broad daily schedule that will help him pack in all that he wants to do. Here’s what I have on my list – we do most of these things, but find that it is always a good idea to revisit!  I am not going to talk about food since that is a given.

Practice what we preach as parents

As working parents, our stress levels fluctuate between high and higher, so we consciously have ways to minimize it. We do this by getting enough exercise. We’re blessed with a beautiful lake and a walking area around it and make sure we go for that walk at least four times a week. This takes care of together time where we get to talk and share things and exercise. Exercise is a proven way to reduce stress.

Get enough sleep

If there is one way to guarantee good health, it is getting enough sleep. We are often guilty of staying up late to finish pending stuff, but now we have a house rule that we’ll go to bed at a specific time because no matter when we sleep, I am up at 5.30 am and the others are up at 6.30 am. Teenagers need at least nine hours sleep for good mental health and staying sharp. It helps them handle the day better. My son makes sure he is in bed latest by 10 pm so that he can be up around 6.30 – 6.45 am.

Exercise

While it looks like I covered this in the first point, that was about stress. This one is specifically about exercise for him. Being busy is not the same as being fit. Physical activity is a must for growing kids. It relieves stress and keeps them in a good mood. Our son ensures he gets at least one hour every day – stretching, jogging and walking, besides games at school. Then there are those household chores he helps with that count just a wee bit.

Don’t give up on hobbies

Everyone needs a creative vent and children are no exception. When they lose themselves in their favorite hobbies, they are mentally healthy, happy and energized. Our son is devoted to music and is in his eighth year of music school. He also enjoys sketching and reading. We enjoy the results. I know a lot of people believe that Grade 11 and 12 must be focused on studying, but it should not be to the exclusion of relaxation. We are not raising zombies.

Give them space

I’ve always believed in facilitating rather than pushing – God knows today’s teenager has enough stress to handle. Why should growing up be hard? Besides physical space of their own, growing children need mental space. Space to be quiet, where they can let their thoughts wander, dream and regroup their energies. Space to let them look within and feel good about themselves.

Encourage them to talk

While space is essential, so is communication. We encourage our son to share his problems. So maybe we can’t always solve them, but it always helps to get it out in the open. Out of our heads, problems always look smaller. Bottling up is bad for health. Talking reduces anxiety. I also encourage my son to email me or his Dad whenever he likes. The sheer novelty of doing it has built a nice and cozy channel of communication between us.

Dual routines

We have a routine for school days and a different one for days when the evening is free. Strangely, weekends are busiest. The three days when the evening is free are Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays and we make sure they are devoted to together time as much as possible. They are also evenings for connecting with neighbours, visiting friends or the local welfare home.

Life will always have something to worry about. Coping is a necessity. But so is having fun in the process.

After all, healthy child, happy child, right?

I’d love to hear your comments/tips.

Vidya Sury is a happy work-at-home Mom who relishes the joy of parenting. She is a freelance writer, business blogger and social media enthusiast and loves DIY, Books, Coffee, Music, Photography, Family, Friends and Life. She believes that Happiness is a DIY Project. She blogs at http://vidyasury.com and tweets as @vidyasury.

The post Mission: Raising One Happy Teenager appeared first on Parentous.

So here it goes.

And mind it, after every question her brows were arched, mouth slack, eyes wide and unblinking.

1. Why do stars twinkle?
2. Why girls have long hairs and boys have short?
3. Why can’t I write with my left hand?
4. Why our teeth don’t become red when we brush it with red toothpaste?
5. Why don’t I speak like Doraemon?
6. Why do you look funny when you apply make up? (My eyes popped out when she said this)
7. Why do we get up in the morning and sleep at night?
8. Why is the sky blue?
9. Why do you and daddy fight?
10. Why you are my mamma and daddy my daddy?

For a minute I was left speechless, wondering whether to answer the questions or admire at the kids ability to generate such mind boggling questions.

Yes, the kid ‘why attacked’ her mom and her mom in turn ‘why attacked’ me.

‘How do you reply to such questions? What do you reply’? She asked me.

From the look on her face and the tone of her voice I can say that she was completely flabbergasted desperate to get free from the ‘why attack’.

‘Even if I reply to her questions she will have more add on questions to my answer which will eventually leave me at split ends’, she continued.

I replied her to come up with ‘What do you think’ question to counter her ‘why’ questions. Ask her the same question she asked you and wait for some sort of explanation from her. If she has, she will come up with some explanation but if she doesn’t have then you can ask her to find it for herself. By doing this you will allow her to be self reliant, independent and more importantly help come up with her own research.

‘But there are some questions that don’t have any answers’, she countered.

Just like, ‘Why do you look funny when you apply make up?’ I intervened and winked.

Both of us started laughing uncontrollably.

‘And that’s what you should exactly do’, I advised her.

So what are your ways of tackling the ‘Why Attack’?

Hetal Kachalia is a preschool teacher in the morning and a dotting home maker by the evening. She blogs at http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in.

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Does Kidlet miss her father? Yes. Do I resent all this travel? Oh Yes! So how do we manage to deal with the stress and resentment? Short answer to long quiz: It takes a lot of work!

In the beginning, it was quite tough. By some strange coincidence, my husband’s travel requirements increased (or maybe I started noticing it more!) when my daughter was barely three months old. He would be off for a week to ten days whilst I twiddled my thumbs with a newborn in an alien country. But the fact that we were out of India and with no domestic help actually kept me busy – even if exhausted most of the time!

To be honest, there are good weeks of low travel followed by weeks on an end of a lot of travel. I am doubtless of the fact that my husband is also exhausted by all this. If you ask me, the perfect recipe for resentment and anger in any family is physical and mental tiredness coupled with long periods of separation. And now that I’ve established my thoughts on that, let me share with you a few tips that have kept us sane, in the name of keeping the peace while living fairly demanding lives:

Get Help

The first thing that hits you when you are all alone with your kid/kids is that you are all alone. If you happen to be the only responsible adult for your children when your spouse is away, things can get a little overwhelming. Even the smallest of irritations can look like a mountain (Undone laundry, leaking taps, unpaid bills!).

The best thing to do is to get as much help as possible with the chores and try to automate as many recurrent things as possible (especially bills!). One of the perks of living in India is that help is quite readily available – so make the most use of it! There’s no point being a martyr with nobody to reward you for it. And at the end of the day your kids will prefer a happy, relaxed mommy to an overworked, irritable one any day.

Keep Busy

If you work full time, this may be a redundant point, because by very nature a job requires you to keep busy. But if you find yourself under the general umbrella of a stay at home mom – keeping busy is important. And by that one does not mean doing the daily chores!

Keep yourself busy in doing things that reward you. If you are a budding entrepreneur – now is the time to nurture that instinct. Even if you do not have the funds to start yet – write that business plan, put down those strategies, and take those online courses! For me, my freelance writing career is what keeps me busy. Mind you, I do not treat it as a hobby. No. I am serious about it and whatever time I spend on it is with sincerity and dedication. I’ve come to realize that you need to shift your attitude to realize that what you are doing is worthwhile before the rest of the world does that too.

Build a Network

Easier said than done, especially if you are an introvert like me. It helps if you live in a housing society or complex with several families. It is a bit more effort if you live in individual houses. Having said that, kids can open up many such limitations. Even if you do not have friends of your own in your city, your child is bound to make friends and acquaintances through the network of school and other activities. There is no shame (and indeed only benefits) in befriending other mothers.

When Kidlet was a toddler, I used to be very shy and withdrawn in mother-toddler groups. But soon I realized that these other mothers were the closest to my situation and understood me when I talked about my challenges. Over the years I have turned into someone who can bank upon other mothers for any help at any time!

Have a Routine

Being left to your own devices a lot of time can also sometimes lead to unwarranted boredom. A routine is the best way to combat boredom in my opinion. When everyone in the family knows what they are supposed to be doing at a certain time – there is less likelihood of feeling miserable and moping around.

Banish ‘waiting’ time

In the earlier years, I used to ‘count-down’ to the number of nights before Kidlet’s Papa came home. Trust me it led to more depression than reassurance. Nowadays we try not to ‘wait’. Because waiting is heavy work! Instead we focus on doing something else. My daughter and I could do some art work in the evenings or I can choose to snuggle up for an extra half hour with a book after the morning school run. The way I choose to look at it, I am getting a little more time to do other things that I love (and sometimes crib about not having enough time to do!)

Enjoy time together

And last but not the least, enjoy the time that you get together as a family because it is precious indeed – what with all the stress and separation that leads up to it. There is no point in wasting more time bickering about time already lost. Finally, Kidlet’s Dad is also happy and less stressed if he comes home to a happy family rather than a resentful one!

Aur jab Papa khush to bachcha biwi bhi khush

Nidhi Dorairaj Bruce is a Freelance writer from Mumbai who also manages a parenting website : thechildrensdaily.net . With no formal education in Parenting, she has been getting on-the-job training ever since her daughter, affectionately referred to as ‘the kidlet’, arrived on the scene 5 years ago. You can connect with Nidhi @typewritermom , nidhibruce.com

The post The Travelling Dad appeared first on Parentous.

However, growing up, I have started to see shades of grey, of hybrid hues. Colors neither red nor blue, neither black not white. Life is in the process of giving me experiences where I get to stand at both the sides of the coin and see both perspectives. The wisdom acquired through these years has enlightened upon me the fact that no one philosophy is infallible, not even my parents’. They may be right on many occasions, but they have been wrong on some too. Though, being wrong does not equate to being bad.

When I look back at some events from the past, I am able to see the people involved in a true light. The ones who seemed ‘wrong’ and ‘bad’ then seem justified now. “So what if they thought so? That is their way,” my mind is able to reason now.

This reasoning also tells me another thing. Tomorrow there might come a situation where my son and I will not agree. Given the fact that the kids of this generation (is it called Generation Z?) are smarter today, the day might come sooner than I expect. I have to start bracing myself up for the same today. When we were kids the thought processes our parents’ (most of them at least) followed directed them to only command and discipline us, often forgetting that the individual within that small body needed to be acknowledged too. But that won’t work for the kids of today. There is no age as such from which the individual demands recognition; it starts from the day the child becomes aware of the surroundings.

And in keeping with their sharper IQs, parents must introduce the hybrid shades to them earlier than before. “Don’t do this, it’s bad,” or “Do that, that’s good,” won’t suffice. Kids today want to know more. “Why is something bad?” “Why is something good?” “Who determines bad of good” We as parents have to be ready to answer these questions. I think our parents had it easier. I never asked these questions as a kid. I took their word to be the final word.

Imagine humanity to be a continuous relay race to fill a bucket of water. The stages in the relay are each generation, and the water is wisdom. One generation fills a little water into the bucket and passes it on to the next. The next inherits the existing wisdom, and adds new wisdom to it, and so on. This will go on and on till the bucket gets filled. (Well) My imagination deserts me at this point. What will happen when the bucket fills up?

Yamini is a software professional turned work-at-home-mom. Amidst her domestic responsibilities and a very demanding 2.5 year old son, she snatches time to write academic papers, freelance content, fiction and poetry. Her stories and poetry have been published in various online literary magazines and anthologies by Penguin Books and Cyberwit Publications. Yamini voices her thoughts now and then at http://myexpressionsandme.blogspot.in/. She can be reached at http://www.facebook.com/YaminiVijendranAuthor.

The post The Cycle Of Inheriting And Acquiring Wisdom appeared first on Parentous.

“In the next coach”, her mother told her. The answer did not satisfy the child and she let out a soft, muffled wail, with the unending refrain, “Papa”.

We looked on the little scene and smiled. There was something endearing about that child, heartbroken at not having her father close to her. Some people offered her chocolates, hoping to take her mind off her temporarily absent father. It did not work.

Others offered to let her play with their phones. The ploy failed. She wanted Papa, and nothing else would do, her muffled cry suggested. Her aunt, seeing that her voice had become hoarse with crying, offered her some water. But that offer too was rejected. By now, she had been crying for 50 minutes, and was weary with exhaustion.

At length, when the train halted at Kandivali, and the trio got off, a coach-ful of women craned to see what happened next. A collective sigh of relief was exhaled when the father materialised and the exhausted but finally happy girl jumped into her father’s arms. That Papa is definitely his daughter’s first hero.

As is mine.

No, I don’t remember crying this way for my Dad. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t have too many early memories of him. Mum was what you would call a Work-at-home-mother, so she was always at hand. We depended on Mum for everything, and yet, somehow, Dad, quiet and calm as he was, made his presence felt in our lives.

Especially during the exams when Dad oversaw our Maths preparations.

Maths and I weren’t on a friendly footing in those days. Considering that Dad was on back-slapping terms with it, sitting down to study Maths with Dad a few days before the exams was always fraught with anxiety. I used to marvel over the fact that in his presence, Maths suddenly metamorphosed into a gentleman with impeccable manners who ceased to intimidate me.

Dad has always been a soft-spoken man. So he very rarely sat us down to pass on lessons to us, and we were obliged to watch and learn and then do as he did. There was so much to learn. When Dad’s company was shut down under a management-lockout, most of his 1000-something colleagues had horror stories to tell. One or two, I heard my parents talk in hushed whispers back then, chose to take the escape route out of life. Many took to drink. But if Dad’s back bent a little more at the thought of raising three growing children on the feeble income earned by my mother through her sewing enterprise, we kids barely got to know of it.

He immediately got to work, taking up a second and even a third odd job, in the absence of the first real one. Through this response to the challenge that threatened to engulf the family, I learned that when things go wrong, you don’t sit and mope, you just get up and do the thing that needs to be done.

That tendency of his shaped our values and bound them in cords that couldn’t be broken by any of the lures the world set in our path. No matter what the temptation that we faced, my brothers and I only had to recall how Dad would have acted in our situation, and the danger was averted.

Dad always encouraged us to ask questions, but didn’t always answer them himself. Instead, he chose to direct us to a source where he and we together might find answers.

So if there was a word whose meaning I didn’t know, I’d get the dictionary and he and I would leaf through its pages and educate ourselves. Those sessions created in me an enduring love for the English language. As a child, I was the only kid I knew who could be lost in reading the dictionary.

It was also the sight of him, sitting down to read a book, that first got me hooked on to the world of books.

He wasn’t the diaper changing, baby bathing father that the ‘90s threw up. But Dad could always be counted on to wake up in the middle of the night, in response to his frightened daughter’s cries, and peer under the bed to chase away the imaginary demons that haunted her.

As a child, I remember putting my hand in his and walking down the busy street, knowing that I was safe and free to yap away with him by my side to look out for me. Today I am decades older, but when we are out on the street, he will still push me on to the inside of the road and walk by the side of the vehicles. I am privileged to have such a father.

Thank you, Dad.

On the occasion of Father’s Day on Sunday, June 16, 2013, I would like to wish all fathers everywhere a very Happy Father’s Day.

Cynthia Rodrigues Manchekar loves being mamma to 4-year-old La Niña and 18-month-old El Niño. A working mother, she enjoys writing short stories and poems and looks forward to being published someday. She blogs at http://cynthology.blogspot.in and tweets @Cynth_Rodrigues.

The post A Daughter’s First Hero appeared first on Parentous.

I was shocked and stumped. But in hindsight I know that I should have rung in the cops, called the fire brigade and alerted all family and friends, and also the neighbours. My son had just stepped into one of the most taxing periods of our lives. He’d become a teenager.

Teenagers are something one would never wish we had; we wish our enemies had them, by the dozens.

But we have them, the ‘condition’ hits us when we are chugging along fine, our kids look up to us, obey us, and love us. We are in parental heaven, demigods, so to say. One day these darlings you love more than any other human being in the whole wide world morph into sulky creatures who won’t be caught dead sharing the same space as you and can’t think of anything but their own selves. Every one and every thing else “sucks”.

And to think sucking was the first activity they indulged in when they were born, apart from peeing and pooping. But let’s not get into that.

Teenagers are incredibly egocentric; they think that the entire world revolves around them and their desires. They also think that the whole world is watching them, judging them. This naturally leads to them wanting to escape notice and go with the herd, even if the herd, to the jaundiced parental eye looks like pigs wallowing in filth! But hey, it’s their herd, and that is where they fit in and feel happy. My sons started speaking Hindi and English in a marked Haryanvi accent, much to my horror (yes I am a snob like that!) but never mind.

And they believe in magic. It is not surprising to me that Harry Potter and Twilight did so well. Who but a teenager would think that if he hid his report card the parent would not find out? And who but a teenager would actually believe changing 30 into 80 on his class test paper (it’s just two deft strokes of the pen) would work?

And all the time their hormones are giving them a hard time, their self-confidence goes up and down and on the top of it, their heads are buzzing with questions,

a) Will people laugh at me?

b) What will the boys think?

c) What will the girls think?

d) Is this stupid?

e) Will this make me look stupid?

… and so on

I learnt dealing with my sons turned monsters the hard way, through trial and error. Funnily enough, the first sign of trouble gave me the clue. “What’s in it for me?”

A teenager in one of the movies I saw on Star Movies during that period asked, “Why should I study History. Why should I care about anything that happened before I was born?” Valuable input – it really helped.

When communicating with my sons, I stopped lecturing. I tried to convey how it would benefit them, benefit us as a team if we did so and so, if we attended such and such program, if we said Please and Thank you, if we changed our socks daily, if we paid attention in class.

Somehow it worked. Try it if you have a teen at home.

Ritu Lalit is the author of two novels, A Bowlful of Butterflies published by Rupa & Co., and Hilawi published by Popular Prakashan. She is a single parent and blogs at www.phoenixritu.com

The post What’s In It For Me? appeared first on Parentous.

It was at a busy street in Bandra. I was calling out to Nani, who was standing out at the other side of the road, and suddenly the “ji” became so cumbersome. Ma, being Ma, reprimanded me even then, on the middle of the road. But by then I had already decided that Nani sounded much nicer.

It is Nani’s controlled voice that I want to hear each time I dial the landline at home. And it’s always a bit of a disappointment when I come home early only to learn that she is yet to return from her evening walk. And she would come, her arms laden with goodies. Farsan, dessert or a new accessory. I just have to mention my favourites to her. And she will procure them for me.

Nanaji, on the other hand, remained Nanaji. Pampering me in equal measure. I remember making a birthday card for him twenty-odd years ago and insisting that I’d give it to him only once he handed me a return gift that evening. They gifted me a pair of earrings that night.

Our annual trips to Jaipur were the highlights of my early years. Nanaji would patiently await my arrival at the airport while Nani would prepare my favourite dishes at home. And for that one month those few years, I had their undivided attention. Feeding me, placating me, spoiling me rotten.

I made my first cups of tea and coffee for Nani. She coached me patiently. She taught me how to cut a papaya. She trained me to shop for vegetables. She’d see me pour over my study material late into the nights, especially on exam nights. The next morning I’d be greeted with a gentle reprimand, “One night of studying before an exam isn’t going to take you far.” Nani, till date, remains a woman of few words.

Some days, our words got lost in translation. She is not too fluent in English but she was keen to learn the language. The mother regrets that as children they didn’t speak to Nani in English often enough. But Nani never complained. Calm, collected and poised, she is the life of the household.

It’s such a fun to see Nanaji and Nani quibble with each other. Minor idiosyncrasies, disappointments and differing choices. But underneath all that sub-text there lie strong roots and a determination to sustain the joy. Each working towards it in their own way. And when I see them exchange a few words every evening, him with a drink in hand, her snacking on some bhel, I feel blessed. For them having raised me, for giving me my mother, for making me a part of them.

Happy anniversary, Nanaji and Nani. You were the best thing to happen to me.

Shruti Garodia is the 20-something daughter of an exasperated mother. When not sparring with the mother, she reads, tweets and occasionally blogs.

The post Growing Up With The Grandparents appeared first on Parentous.

He upholds you strongly waiting patiently for the storm to pass and restores his sanity when everyone loses their heart.

In his journey to be his kids’ role model he is sometimes hard-to-please, trying to steer every step of his rebellious teen.

In his hidden emotions are his bruises that he received from nature, in the course of shaping a haven for his children to savour.

He knows to balance his care and discipline for kids and puts forth his iron rules to ensure they become self-reliant and have best targets to hit.

He is always around to protect his family and teach his children wisdom, by giving them the most important lessons for life to remember forever.

Ain’t our Dad special?

On this special occasion of Father’s day, Team Parentous announces a Father’s Day Contest for you to make your dad feel proud for all the efforts he has put in to make you a person that you are today and win surprise gift vouchers from PhotoJaanic.com

1) Voucher worth Rs.2500
2) 12*12 Imagewrap photobook
3) 16*20 Gallery Wrap Canvas

All the three prizes are courtesy PhotoJaanic.com

Share the ‘10 life lessons I learnt from my father’ and tell us how much you value them in your life.

Do not forget to include this line in your posts:

‘I am writing ‘10 life lessons I learnt from my father’ at Parentous.com‘

So, write your heart out. Blog about your father’s 10 lessons of life and submit the link in the comments below!

The last date for participating is 25th June, 2013.

The post 10 Life Lessons I Learnt From My Father appeared first on Parentous.

“But you have to, see your didi has been wearing it”, argued her mother.

“I don’t care what she does”, pat came the reply.

“I don’t want any arguments, you have to wear it, and we will actually buy two for you.”

“I am not arguing I am telling you. Mom, why don’t you understand I don’t like it?”

“It is not a question of liking, it is very much needed, you have not been listening to me for last one month, now you better start getting used to it, before your school opens”, Sasha opened the school front, which normally works on our younger one.

Today was not one of those days.

“Ok, then I will not go to school, if I have to wear it”, the kiddo doubled the stakes.

“But what is the problem in wearing them”, Sasha tried to negotiate.

“I will look so old if I wear it”, our 4 year old shared her worry.

“Beta you can’t look old even if you tried”, intervened the sales girl who was watching this drama so far. Fortunately we were the only potential buyers in the showroom; hence she was not under any pressure to talk to other customers.

“Why don’t you wear them, if you like them so much”, came the rebuttal, that would have made a telemarketing trainer in a call center proud.

But Sasha wanted to end the confrontation so gave a bit of leeway.

“You need to wear them; you can choose the color you want”.

“Any color?” it seemed the kiddo was falling in line.

“Yes any color as long as mama approves it”, Sasha decided to set some boundaries, as if the 4-year-old would ask for something wild.

“ Ok I want Pink, because that is my favourite color”, Sasha was expecting this from the girl who has everything in pink right from hair bands to shoes, school bag to water bottle, to umbrella and everything else you can imagine.

“Yes we do have a few in Pink, but they are not ready, you try in black, but we will make it for your size in pink” the sales girl tried to fast track the closure, before the kiddo went on tangent once again.

“No I will not try in black, if they fit, my mom will force me to wear that only”, the cycle began again.

“Don’t worry I will not give you black, ok I think I have one Pink in your size you try them”, came the reply from the sales girl, who must have been used to brats visiting the showroom on a daily basis.

Parenting tip of the day: Work as sales girl/man in a kids department of a store and you will learn more about parenting than all the gyan you have ever got from any source.

Reluctantly the kiddo, tried the pink one.

“How do I look in them?” was her question.

“Oh you look very nice in them”, came 3 answers in same breath, from Sasha, sales girl and our elder one, who has been so far busy checking stuff for herself.

“Not only you look better but you will be able to see better once your specs are ready”, announced the sales girl.

“Yes, I know that, the doctor already told me the same”, declared our 4-year-old. “I will look like Deepika in Yeh Jawani Picture”.

Thus the deal was closed and we placed the order for specs for our 4-year-old, who just like her elder sister will now be wearing specs. Like Father like daughters.

“Now that you are making her specs, please also give threads to make them secure in her neck”, requested Sasha to the sales girl.

“No Way that I am wearing a thread with my specs”…… began the cycle of arguments once again.

Now you may wonder what I was doing all this while. Well thinking about this post, while the tri-party negotiations were going on between the kid, her mother and the sales girl.

What do you say?

Sasha and Prasad Np are proud parents of 2 girls whom they fondly call Princess and Pinkette. He wears many hats after taking a break from being corner office critter for a long time. He is now an entrepreneur, blogger, photographer, traveler and a potential investor in start-ups with unique concepts especially if they are in travel related business. He blogs at Desi Traveler, and can be reached at Facebook and Twitter.

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