The One Where The Bean Grew Up

or – The One Where The Bean’s Feelings Were Hurt

or – The One Where The Bean Started School

or – The One Where Lumpy Was Abandoned

Take your pick – any title would suit this. As I’ve said before, I don’t know what it says about me as a parent that my kids love school and strangers. And so it was that the Bean began school on Monday. I took the lift down and the OA drove me and her to school slowly. She ran off to play while we were completing admission formalities (no, this is not the Brat’s school, just a stand alone playschool) and soon decided to stay there. So home the OA went, to get her a tiffin and bottle. We were reluctant to go into class and give it to her in case seeing us made her want to come home, but we bit the bullet. I found her in a sandpit, ‘making cakes’.

“You go home, mamma, I need to bake some cakes for the other children,” says she busily. Right, I nod, handing her bottle and tiffin to the teacher. And then I limp back to the car, feeling older and more lost. Why is it that the children who have flexitime/WFH/SAHM at times, mothers like me, fly away so fast? I’m the mother who would have stayed with her for as many days as she wanted, to the exclusion of all else. Kids are just so perverse. I am sure if I had a travelling job the damn kids would have wanted me more, just to spite me!

She came home happily and wanted me to carry her to her room. With my knee the way it is, I shook my head regretfully, told her that she was a big girl and too heavy for me to carry, but offered to hold hands and walk to her room. She mournfully agreed and walked.

A little later she appeared at my side holding a spotted, stuffed dog. “This is my new baby, Spotty,” says she.

“Where is Lumpy?” I ask, missing her fifth, purple limb.

“Oh, he’s growing up and turning bigger and bigger. Now he’s too heavy for me to carry. So I got myself a new baby,” she explained.

It broke my heart and I rushed to gather her in my arms (knee be damned) and we hunted Lumpy down. But it was too late. She fell asleep hugging Spotty last night and had breakfast with Spotty this morning while I foolishly sat there holding Lumpy, hoping she wasn’t still feeling rejected and somewhere deep down, crying for Lumpy too. Yes, I’m an ass. I don’t need to hear it from you.

PS: She’s gone to school very happily today with Cousin J (yes, Cousin K’s little sister who has got through a Delhi college. So now I am local guardian to TWO teenagers and mother to two brats. House full at all times) and as I watched her walk away confidently, her little three year old shoulders carrying a pink bag and pink bottle, and thought of the Brat literally hopping from foot to foot in impatience to get to school, this whole move seems to be justified.  Lost phone, 4 hour commute, aching knee and everything. We’ll be okay. And here I shall hark back to Amanda Marshall. Cry Armana, cry.


29 thoughts on “The One Where The Bean Grew Up

  1. Mammmaaa!! Beanie! I am not sure what else I can say to this. Are all kids just as adorable as your 2 brats? Irrespective of how dumb their mum is? Say yes.. Please say yes! 😀

  2. I swear my jaw dropped as I read this. How innocent yet how complex–the way she understood what you said and took to it seriously enough to emulate you!
    Love to you and to the little-ready-tofly-away-Beanie.

  3. Hugs to Lumpy first. Then hugs to you. Tell me about it. We mothers are the ones who cannot let go. *goes to get a tissue to blow nose into*

  4. I put my son in playgroup this year. BIG mistake. He runs into his school without even looking back (even on his first day, he held the teacher’s hand and just walked away happily….).
    Then in the afternoon I have to literally drag him out of there, while he hangs on the teacher/swing/gate/whatever he finds for dear life.

    I am very sure all the parents hate me. I always get ‘Oh you are so lucky.’ Right!!!

  5. The eyes were already a bit moist and then i got to the song. pure evil that.
    Yes, yes, you are an ass (and you said it, not me so no reaching for projectiles!) but here is what i saw in the incident: YOU are the ideal that Bean aspires to. And no, she is not feeling in the least neglected- hey, she’s the Bean, she’d come right up to you and demand ‘Mama, pay attention to me now!’ She just sees herself as a reflection of you and that you mad woman is an incredible compliment.

    • I like you Armana, for putting it like this 🙂

      And dude MM, you can either get Lumpy the love of his life back, or you could have your knees and make the grandchildren sit on them knees one day and tell them Lumpy’s story.. choose the long term here, please. Oh yes, and before I forget, because this is really important and I can’t leave without saying this – You ARE an ass (behti ganga mein haath dhona and all that!) 😀

  6. Oh, all us moms can be this devastated at the ‘rejection’ of a toy. The way she expressed herself broke my heart. She hasn’t grown up you know…neither have you. Grown-ups are boring 😛

    P.S. Now how ’bout a pic of Spotty? 🙂

  7. Er…are you sure she’s not, in some way, hinting that you get another baby too? 😛
    SMM n I are planning to bring the tiramisus this sunday. 🙂

  8. I was thinking a lot about the Brat and Bean after yesterday’s post… but as u said, the fact that they are enjoying their new schools makes it all worth the hassles.

    But please, that doesn’t mean you have to go on neglecting yourself… please pay attention to your health and do whatever gives you happiness, health and long life too 🙂

  9. Got it as a fwd this morning, thought will share it with you. Sorry for hogging this space.
    The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming.
    Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect himself from the elements, and to store his few possessions. But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky.
    The worst had happened – everything was lost. He was stunned with grief and anger.

    “God, how could you do this to me?” he cried.
    Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him.

    “How did you know I was here?” asked the weary man of his rescuers.

    “We saw your smoke signal”, they replied.

    It’s easy to get discouraged sometimes when things appear to be going badly. But we shouldn’t lose heart, because God is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering.

    Remember, next time your little hut is burning to the ground, it just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of God.

  10. Oh god..the li’l one IS growing! N I can imagine what a happy-sad moment that must be.

    My sis struggles thru this too. When her son willingly gave away his FAV toy to his baby sis( a li’l dare-devil who turned one 3 days ago but fights for her Bro’s toys!!)….my sister was half proud and half sad that he is being so mature about it. u know..i actually laughed..’coz my sis I blv hugged him tight…n sensing that my sis was a wee bit troubled abt this….he squeezed her rite back n said “ Amma..don’t worry…mine or hers…this will always be urs as well” just imagine! 😀

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