Hidden talents

... So i tried my hand at water colours today (15.11.10, usually the time i write the post and the time i actually publish can span months and even years)... and a couple of days ago i make a glass painted fish from chart paper and crepe paper. and a few days before that for Show and tell at sharanya's school, i painted whiskers and a nose and made an aquarium for her (the pussy cats lunch).

As it turns out it's been months...(20-03-11)

I'm not a control freak... or am I???

... Okay so this year it was decide by ME that the Diwali cards would be made by Sharanya... So I decided the colours and type of papers... and also the design (what does a 2 year old know!!! A lot...really) and cut up all the shapes (scissors not safe for a 2 yr old!!! Ok that ones true). I alloted Sharanya the task of painting the chart paper in the colours of MY preference. We (Read:I, sharanya was only allowed to stick) also made the little diyas and lanterns...

After making three cards I realised Sharanya wasn't around anymore... She probably realised playing with pieces of waste paper was more fun than dealing with my "art and craft"

So now... she's deciding which cards should have lanterns (most of them) and which should have diyas... the colours and sticking them... The cards don't look neat... but they look lovely!

The Tiger- William Blake

Tiger, tiger, burning bright,

In the forest of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

When thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand forged thy dread feet?

What the hammer?

What the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp

Dared its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears

And watered heaven with their tears,

Did He smile his work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright,

In the forest of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

My daughter - the grown up...

... sigh!!!
In a little more than a month's time Sharanya will be two (the terribles)... and i really can't believe how fast she's grown up. She wants to do everything herself... EVERYTHING... even getting off the damn commode. Watching her wriggle her bottom off the seat is sheer joy... of course when she runs around the house with her pyjamas around her ankle...joy turns to hilarious. And then there is the eating by herself, that's a little harder to ignore especially since there is more food on the floor (which could feed the entire continent of Africa AND the birds in our area are thriving and obesity is soon getting to be common problem for them.) than in her tummy.
She already wants to play "football" with the big boys, which means i got called aunty by 16 year olds... not good for the ego... especially since more than a couple grey hair and an every expanding waistline. She's been using her kitchen set voraciously and if that translates into her becoming this amazing, gourmet chef, I'm all for it. But its the constantly making me drink fake teas and fake dosas with fake jam and fake butter on a plastic toast, that i have a problem with. Then there's her doctors set, my temperature gets taken and my blood pressure..which is always "too high mumma" according to her. My reflexes are checked with a vengence and i cringe just thinking about the number of times my funny bone got a whack AND i've got whacked a couple of times on the legs with her hockey stick while she was trying to aim for the ball...

I'm begining to realise what a hazardous occupation being a mother is... There should a statutory warning attached to every baby: Bringing up a baby could be extremely dangerous to your health - bruising yourself and your ego, anxiety, panic attacks, being called "aunty" are a few mild side effects.