Raising A Foodie

 

When I became a parent there was one thing I knew for sure, I didn’t want a fussy eater on my hands. I wanted to inculcate healthy eating habits in my kid. Moreover, I wanted to be able to travel with him without having to carry around a bagful of food for him. 

I myself had been through enough health issues to know that what you put into your body as food was what it gave back to you in terms of health, vitality, and energy. 

As my son turns six and people ask me the secret to his balanced eating habits, I know I got it right somehow. It’s not always easy, but the rewards are totally worth it. An added benefit, he’s now a complete foodie and doesn’t just love his staple dal and vegetables; he’s also a big fan of sushi, and Chinese food and he’s always willing to try something new! Here are a few tips that helped me raise a food aficionado  -

• Build an appetite: ‘Times they are a-changin’, sang Bob Dylan many decades ago, but it still holds true today. More and more I hear people talk of how their kids are addicted to iPads and laptops. Often I see young children being fed in front of a screen, saying that they just don’t eat otherwise. I beg to differ. From the time that my son was 6 months old, we spent considerable amounts of the day in the park. The result? He had a ravenous appetite. He would eat whatever I put in front of him, within twenty minutes. So whether it’s the neighborhood park or a sports class, getting the children outdoors and active is the ideal way to build an appetite.
• Regular meal and snack times: Kids thrive when there are firm yet loving boundaries and routines in place. A fixed time for meals and snacks every day lets my son know when it’s time to eat. While he can’t read a clock yet, his body clock has tuned into it. 
• Provide a variety of healthy food: Planning in advance has always helped me make sure he gets a balanced diet. For young kids, nutrition needs to be seen spread over a week, not a day. So if he’s had a play date or a pizza party one day, I don’t need to stress because I can squeeze veggies into his meal the next day. It also helps to mix it up and prepare different dishes so he doesn’t get bored.
• Involve children in meal preparation: My six-year-old loves being in the kitchen with me. Whether it’s while whipping up a cake or chopping veggies, he wants to be part of it all. For me, it is very important that he grows into an independent, self-sufficient adult, and cooking his own meals is a big part of that. He already feels a great sense of accomplishment when he makes rotis for us all!
• ‘Sometimes’ foods: For the first few years, it’s super easy to make sure your kids don’t eat food that’s lower on the nutritional scale. After all, they’ll only eat what you give them. I took full advantage of that time and fed my son karela for lunch and vegetable sticks for snack time! But as he went out more, to school and birthday parties, I had to ease up and let him also have what I like to call ‘sometimes’ foods. A couple of times a month he can choose from chips and pizzas and other such delights. 
• Re-hydrate: Water keeps our systems running in mint condition. My son likes to count how many bottles of water he’s finished each day. He loves refilling his thermos from the matka in summer.
• Eat as a Family: My meal times changed when I became a mother, to suit my son’s. Not only did it make me healthier, it helped both of us bond. My son didn’t see an iPad till he was 4 and if I had to resist the temptation of putting him in front of a screen; it meant I had to be there. We started having our meals together and continue to do so as often as possible.
• Parents as Role Models: It is true that children learn most through imitation. If parents want to raise healthy eaters, they must lead by example. That’s why it’s said that children push parents to be their best selves. There’s no better time than now to eat healthy, drink plenty of water and exercise. I know that being a mother has made me healthier than I ever was before!

D For Divorce

 

You loved your partner and now for some reason, they are gone. You're angry, sad, and bitter all at the same time. You have no idea how you'll put your life back together again and all you want to do is curl up in a corner and never move. But, a big but, you have kids. While you didn’t sign up to take care of them by yourself, yet this is where you are now.

Divorce is a life-changing decision and you thought through it a million times before signing the dotted line. But your kids can't fathom why their lives have suddenly changed so much. Why don’t they live with both mommy and daddy like their friends do? Was it something they did that made them split up? Are they not loved anymore? Kids have thousands of questions running through their minds, some, of which they may not even, be able to verbalize.

I've struggled with these questions for the last six years. When I separated from my ex I had no clue where life would take me. But I knew that I had to pull myself together for my son, barely 1.5 years old at the time. I had nothing to go on but pure instinct. I knew this would be something he and I would grapple with for the rest of our lives. I also knew that it was upon me to minimize the damage it would cause him.

The first step, and a hard one, was to never bad-mouth the ex in front of him. Not with friends, not with family. He always just heard how his dadda loved him very much but needed to be somewhere else now. I saved the rants for Mommy’s night out with her friends because a girl has to get it out of her system. Kids don’t need to know the reasons why our marriages don’t work. It’s too complex for their young hearts and minds to grasp and can cause way too much emotional trouble for them. 

As my son grew older, the questions started pouring in, and I tried my best to answer them as honestly as possible. The ex would visit very irregularly, causing a lot of emotional upheaval for my son and me. Yet, I knew it was not right for me to stop the visits. So I did the best I could.

From answering all my son's hard questions to holding him while he cried as though his heart was breaking every time dadda left, to being held by him when I cried the same way. Showing my vulnerability to him was important to me. As a mother, I want him to know it’s okay to be sad, to cry, and then to move on with life. I stayed as honest as I could be with him, in a way that was appropriate for his age.

When he turned 4 I realized he had little connection with his father’s family. As hard as it was, I started taking him for weekly visits. In a strange turn of events, my relationship with his grandmother became much better, and I’d like to think we became friends. She was very respectful and supportive of my choices. The visits also helped my son get a sense of belonging with his father’s family. This year both his grandparents passed away, and while it was very traumatic for both of us, I was happy knowing that he had forged strong bonds with them.

I know my son will always carry some hurt with respect to his father. I also know now that there is nothing I can do to erase that. But I know that keeping the channels of communication open and letting him know that he is loved deeply by both his parents will help him deal with and sort out his pain as he grows. One day, he will hopefully understand our choices. Maybe he will even be happy that he grew up with two parents who lived apart and were more satisfied with their lives but loved him still instead of parents who stayed together and made each other and themselves miserable. 

Finding The Mother In Me

 

They say your maternal instinct kicks in the moment you find out you're pregnant. I found out I was pregnant a day after deciding to divorce my husband. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling so maternal. We decided to give our marriage another try and went ahead with the pregnancy. Within a few months, I had gestational diabetes and a pretty good sense that our marriage was at a dead end. More often than not I found myself wishing the pregnancy would not bear fruit and I'd be able to get out of this nightmare.

When my son was born at a healthy 3.8 kg, I felt nothing but exhaustion. The first week he lost tremendous amounts of weight because my husband insisted, that he only be breastfed. I didn't know it then, but the stress and depression were taking a toll on my body, drying up the milk I was so desperately trying to express. I still remember those days as a hellish period, my mother feeding me all kinds of things claiming they would help milk production, the supplements the doctor gave, me squeezing my breasts till they were bruised and crying copiously as my son fed on me for hours, getting less than 5 ml of milk after all this anguish. To top it all off, I was prohibited from going out of the house for 45 days. 

I remember looking at my child and thinking, through my haze of exhaustion, that all this was because of him. He lay there just eating and pooping, while I was trapped, living out my worst nightmare, because of him. I believed that no one in my family loved me or supported me, everyone was just taking care of him. I didn't know what to do, so I reached out to books for help, reading up about pregnancy, motherhood, divorce, and depression. That's when I realized I had postpartum depression. There was a reason I was feeling this way and I wasn't alone. I knew I had to do something.  I gave my mom an ultimatum, she could either break her 45-day rule or else I'd go insane. She let me go.

I started going out as often as I could. To a coffee shop, a park. While it made me feel better, the feeling of being stuck never quite left. One day as I was telling my sister that my son was holding me back from doing what I wanted, she asked me why I didn't just leave him and go then. She said he could be brought up by my parents or my second sister who already had a daughter. What was stopping me from leaving him?

 That conversation made me think long and hard. At the same time, my husband left for an overseas assignment and I started spending the days in the park with my son. Suddenly a veil started lifting. I did have the option of leaving my son and going. But I no longer wanted to. With my husband's departure, I realized I had started bonding more with my child. I loved him and being with him made me happy. It took me nearly one year, but the maternal instinct finally kicked in. At that moment, I realized I couldn't leave my son, but the husband had to go. I got divorced and there's been no looking back. I started working and that brought back a lot of the lost self-esteem and confidence. I realized that if I wanted my son to be healthy and happy, I would have to role model that for him, and that helped me find myself again. My son is going to be 7 soon and he pushes me to be a better person every single day. 

Good touch, Bad touch

We live in a world where child abuse and molestation are words we hear on a daily basis. The only way to counter this is to teach children about 'good touch' and 'bad touch' at an early age. While there is no need to instill fear in a child, the sooner you start working towards this, the better it is. Here are some tips on how to get started.

• It's a penis, not a wee-wee - Name all body parts correctly

Give children anatomically correct names for their body parts. When your child starts identifying different parts of the body like the eyes, nose, and belly button, also tell them about their penis and vulva. Don't use euphemisms like wee-wee or boobies. It confuses children and distracts them from having the right vocabulary to express themselves, should they need to. It's also good to outline differences in the male and female body. Mamma has breasts while Daddy's chest is flat. 

• Does grandma have a vulva? - Answer their questions

Answer your children's questions, even if they embarrass you. Children have a natural curiosity and the more openness you show in satisfying it, the more they will learn to be open with you. If you're comfortable, shower and change in front of your children so they are at ease with the human body and it's not shrouded in mystery.

• Give Uncle a goodbye kiss - Don't force affection

In a society like ours, it's common to insist that our children give people hugs and kisses even if they don’t want to. Whether it's out of fear that they will come across as ill-mannered children or because we are trying to build relationships between them and our friends or family, forcing affection is not a good idea. Children will naturally start to hug and kiss people they like. Never insist they do it when they are saying no. It confuses them and they may not feel confident saying no in a situation where they should.

• These are my breasts; you can't touch them without asking - Role model setting boundaries for your child

Let your child know that there are certain parts of your body they cannot touch without asking, like the breasts or buttocks. Tell them that it is your body so you get to decide what is ok and what isn't. Help them understand boundaries and good touch when they're younger by telling them when you're going to touch them, for example during a bath casually say, "Now I'm going to wash your penis" before doing so. As they grow older, ask instead of telling, "May I wash you?" 

• Go with your gut - Identifying touch as good or bad

Talk to your kids about which kinds of touch are okay and which are not. Parents and close friends and family hugging, kissing, or dressing a child are okay. But only if it feels okay for the child. If it makes them uncomfortable in any way, they can say no and move away. No matter who the person is, including parents, a child always has the right to say no if they don't want to be touched. Strangers or acquaintances seeing, touching, or kissing their lips, chest, genitals, and buttocks are not okay. Neither is it okay for them to be asked to see, touch, or kiss someone else. Have frequent conversations giving examples of what good and bad touch can feel like so that children have a deep understanding of it, but do it casually, as you would talk of anything else so that they aren't terrified of the outside world. Reading books or watching age-appropriate videos with your kid is also a good way to reinforce these conversations.

• Circle of trust - Create one for your child

Pick 4-5 people both you and your child are close to and trust. It could be you, your partner, an aunt or uncle, a friend or grandparents. Let these people know that you are choosing them to be there for your child and that if they are ever approached by the child, to listen and believe what is being said. Tell your child that if they ever feel uncomfortable in a situation to say no, get away from the person making them uncomfortable, and come and tell any one of these people. Tell them these instances must never be kept secret even if they've been told not to talk about it by the perpetrator. Let them know that the people you've picked together will always believe them and make sure they are safe. 

The World Will Live As One

 

We live in a world that is quick to judge. From ethnicity to body size to religion to pretty much everything else under the sun, everything is up for scrutiny and judgment. It’s always us pitted against the “other”. Of course, we are always right and the other is to be scorned. 

As a parent, this has always worried me. I want my son to know that at the core all human beings are the same. They shouldn’t be defined and judged by man-made parameters of race, caste, nationality, socio-economic status, and the kind. Neither should they be pigeonholed and judged on natural differentiations like gender and body size. 

So how does one raise non-judgmental kids? It's a hard road. Not for your kids, for you. Kids learn how to walk, how to talk, behaviors, and mannerisms from the people around them. If you have a multi-lingual household, they will learn multiple languages, with ease. In the same way, if you want non-judgmental kids, you’ll have to shed those prejudices and walk on higher ground. My son goes to a Waldorf school and the one thing they keep saying and I agree with completely, is that young children learn by imitation. They will do what they see you do, and that will always be their primary source of learning. 

I strongly believe that embracing parenthood has made me a much better person. I have had to look deep into my own prejudices and judgmental attitudes and shed them to make sure I don’t model that for my son. To supplement that, I have tried to show him diversity in every way I could think of. I chose a school with a diverse peer group, and read books with characters from all over the world and of all genders. When I couldn’t find such books I made stories of my own, setting them in different places and with characters of all genders, age groups, abilities, and nationalities. We watch movies/videos from all over the world. I recently showed my son a video of Nick Vujicic, who suffers from phocomelia (he was born without arms or legs) and all he said after the video was, Mamma this guy is so cool! If we show them diversity without judgment, they will accept it like that. 

I also call it out when I see something or someone who's being judgmental, whether it's an ad on TV or a relative who's come visiting. Is it easy? No with a capital N! It can cause conflict, but it’s good conflict, the kind I want my son to see, the kind I want him to raise his voice for as he grows older. 

When he’s the one who's said something, I stick to the truth as much as I can. He once teased me, saying I'm fat. I very calmly told him that yes, that is the truth, I am fat, but that doesn't make it okay for him to tease me about that because my body size doesn't change who I am or how much we love each other. He's never done it again. There was no screaming or shouting. I just let him know it's not okay to tease someone based on his or her appearance and that it’s not funny. 

I feel it's the best gift parents can give their children, to send them out in the world with as few prejudices as possible. I keep remembering the lines “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one, I hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will live as one.” John Lennon sang that decades ago, but I hope, the generation we are raising will shed their prejudices and judgments and live as one.

Who spoiled my child?

I remember when we were kids, the adults used to lament about how we had to carry such heavy bags to school. Indeed, it often felt as though I had a baby elephant sitting on my back trying with all it's might to topple me over backwards. But it was still my baby elephant to carry. As I walked to the bus stop, in school and as I walked back home.

Today, as I dropped off my nearly 7 year old to a chess tournament, we got stuck waiting outside for half an hour because the room was waterlogged. After about 15 minutes, A turned to me asking if I'd hold his bag. My immediate response was no. It's his bag, he gets to hold it, except in cases of extreme exhaustion or injury. I was a bit stumped by his response "but all the other parents are holding their kids bags." I looked around to prove him wrong, but sure enough, all the other parents were holding their kids bags. Kids as old as my son or older. While furiously tapping their phone screens, scribbling in the forms or yelling at their child, all of them held on to their own bags and those of their kid or kids. There was a man walking around with three bags on his back while his children strolled leisurely, empty handed at his side. One father was making space for his 11 year old to sit while he stood. Another was organizing his teenagers bag, telling him where the pencils were. A harried looking mother was coaxing her daughter to take a sip of water. While yet another was giving last minute advice to her child about what to do or not do in the tournament.

As the announcement to enter was made, my son gave me a quick squeeze and said shoo, scat, scatat and was off. I told him simply to have fun. As I walked back home I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to parents. When did we become this breed of harassed, worried, stressed out zombies? When did we start treating our children like little entitled brats who can't carry their own bags for god's sake? When did a chess tournament become such a high stress activity, with parents milling about and prepping their children as though they are going in for their turn at the Olympics?

These are the same parents who will then moan about how spoiled their children are. But who spoiled them?

It's time we let kids be kids, and not treat them as royalty. Let your kid carry their own bags, make their own sandwiches, lose spectacularly at chess or football or whatever it is they play. It builds character. It teaches them to be independent. And it let's you have a life!

Have they died, Mamma?

My little monster, before he's turned 6, has had to deal with loss. His sister's grandfather, who was like his own, my grandfather and then his own grandparents. For a little boy, that's a lot.

As his mother it was upon me to figure out how to break the news each time. And how to help him cope. Not a big believer in God, I wanted to stay away from the convenient 'Bhagwan ji ke paas gaye hain.' At the same time, the finality of death seemed too large a concept to explain to a 4 year old who's lost someone he loved immensely.

I didn't want to tell him his Baba had gone to sleep. I saw my niece being told that, and saw her distress as she tried to wake him up. I didn't want my child to feel anxious every time a loved one went to sleep, thinking they may never wake up.

So it was, that I stayed as close to the truth as possible. I told him a story of how each of us comes on earth to do certain things. And when we have done them, when we have created all that we had to, loved and nurtured all those we had to, it is our time to return home, where we came from. When he asked if that was called death, I said yes. But death was not a bad thing, it was just the end of life. When he asked if I would also die, I said yes, someday. But not for a long, long time. And I told him that I would never leave him, because I am a part of him. As long as he lives, I will be his mother, I will live in his heart and his memories. As will the others he loved who have gone. And then I repeated this ad infinitum, every time he hugged me and cried, missing those who had gone, scared that I would leave one day too.

I did it again when my grandfather died. And I am doing it now after his grandparents have passed away. And each time he's had questions, some old, some new. Each time, I have answered them as truthfully as I can. Each time we have spoken about the things we will miss most about the person who's left, from the special chowmein they fed us every time we visited to the way they laughed.

That's they key I think, to acknowledge our children's grief. To know they will have anxiety around our deaths. To let them say everything they need to. To not protect them and shield them from reality, but to present it to them in the most relatable manner  possible. And then to be ready to answer their endless questions gently and with love.