Syon's Site

A Princely Prize

2009-09-14T21:02:00.014+01:00

I know I have left my faithful readers without comfort or a purpose in life for far too long and for that, I'm truly sorry, but I have been a terribly busy toddler of late. My Dida and Dadu came to visit me this summer and we had the most fabulous time together. I have also been busy swimming, visiting zoos and brand new cousins, and practising my ever expanding vocabulary (but only in private; my public will have to wait, I'm afraid, till later this year). And I promise to regale you with an account of all that and more in my next post.

Tonight, all I have time for is to tell you that I have won my very first, first prize (the first of many, said Dadu) in the neighbourhood fancy dress competition in the face of very stiff competition from fearsome pirates, twinkle-toed ballerinas and a glittering fairy or two. I went as a Maharaja and scooped the princely prize of a dashing silver teddy in pirate gear with his loot of chocolate bars. I fear my Mommy has her eye on some of the latter, but she deserves a share of the spoils of my victory as my outfit was her idea (and my impressive curling moustache her handiwork) but Daddy's due a great deal of the credit too as he fashioned my turban from Mommy's scarf, and my regal raiments, a gift from my Dadu and Dida for my Annaprashan (What's an Anna-er-um-thingammie you say? Check out my old post) last year.

So it was all cobbled together from bits around the house at the last minute which is why the win was so special and unexpected. Every contestant was a winner though because they all looked fantastic in their finery. The best thing about the evening, for me,(even better than my terrific new teddy) was how pleased and amused everyone seemed to be to see me in my great get-up, and the many compliments they lavished on me. Sensible 16 month old toddler that I am, I lapped it all up and had a wonderful time.

But with every triumph comes an onerous responsibility (sigh)- I now have a seriously heavyweight title to defend and need to dream up yet another unique entree that will dazzle the judges next year! All ideas welcome!

Reviver of the Lost Art...

2009-07-04T17:39:00.012+01:00

....of walking in a manner that's tremendous fun!

You'll see what I mean when you play the video. Don't knock it till you've tried it; it's a lot more laughs than your oh-so-solemn 'I'm-all-grown-up-and-must-be-taken-seriously' walk! And don't bother giggling because my gait isn't as elegant as your's (yet), I'm the one enjoying my half-run-half-toddle-tumble-every-two-minutes brand spanking new walk.

When was the last time you enjoyed the way you walked? I tell ya, you gotta try my way- I've been at it non-stop since last Friday and have had such a great time, I haven't really bothered to eat or sleep! And while you contemplate giving it a go (I know adults take a long time deciding to do anything), have a look at my 'Summer Syon' slideshow- it's all the fun I've had in the last two, sun-drenched (for England) months, starting with my first birthday. Thanks to all the super birthday gifts you gave me, I've had a fantastic time playing outdoors.

And finally, since I have taken time out (from my high-octane toddle-a-thon) to post this piece, I must thank all my readers once again for continuing to check in despite my sporadic blogging. I have now had a thousand hits (and none of them Mommy, Daddy or me) and feel very privileged and humble that there are people out there who care enough to keep reading (even in Brazil, apparently!).

Thank you all, and do let me know if you enjoy walking my walk!

Big Brother

2009-06-15T14:38:00.009+01:00

Hello! I know I’ve been away a long time and, unfortunately, this post is not my eagerly awaited return. On the contrary, it is with a heavy heart that I must say goodbye to my loyal readers, at least for a few months…

I know how lost you will all feel and I’m crying inside for all of you (I’m not crying outside because that will bring Mommy running)! But this is a sacrifice I must make; giving up the adulation of my fans is very hard indeed, but I’m a big boy now (all of 13 months) and have heavy responsibilities weighing on me.

You see, I’m going to be a Big Brother soon, and this is a Very Important Position. As the man of the house when Daddy’s out, it’s my job to look after Mommy, not only because she is carrying my (obviously big fat) brother or sister, but also because she hasn’t been so well.

She’s got too much sugar in her blood, which makes her diabolic or diabetic or summat (as Daddy would say). I always knew Mommy was sweet but now the doctors have confirmed it, and, apparently, that’s not a good thing to be. Mommy needs to be a lot less sweet so my little brother or sister doesn’t grow too podgy to pop out! Mommy had high blood sugar before I was born too, but I was a smart baby and stayed svelte. Any sibling of mine should be the same but you never can tell!

Mommy also has Es-speedy. I’m not sure what this is (no-one except doctors and pregnant sufferers seem to know) but I can see it’s painful from the way Mommy hobbles around- it makes her anything but speedy!

But enough about ailments! I’ve had a few since I last blogged but I rather tell you about my achievements. I’ve notched up a brace in the last few months while preparing for big brotherhood. After all, I have to set an example for the new baby- show ‘em how it’s done (and maybe just nudge them along with a gentle poke or two if they falter).

I had my 1st birthday on the 3rd of May and it was loads of fun (at least the bit I was awake for). All my English friends and family joined us for the big day. They brought me fantastic stuff to play with and really trendy togs to wear. My family in India sent a heap of fab clothes too.

I started the day being sick and then, falling asleep on my Grandma’s lap but after a good long snooze, I was roused for the cake cutting ceremony (if I look a bit dazed in those photos, that’s why!). As everybody sang ‘Happy Birthday’, I blew out the single candle with Mommy’s help. Daddy helped me cut the scrumptious chocolate cake. While all the grown-up guests tucked into Daddy’s delicious Chilli Con Carne and other snacks and desserts, I shared the yummy fruit-filled jelly that Daddy had made (with my name on it in bold raspberry-red letters) with the other kids. All us kids then played a game, which involved tearing tons of newspaper to find sweets or a beach ball or other random gifts which rather baffled me (I’ve asked my parents to leave the party games to me next time). I was sad to see everyone leave my (sorta animal-shaped) balloon and banner-decked home at the end of this very special day but soon perked up when I saw just how many fantastic new toys I had to play with!

Since my birthday I have done one new thing after another- I have started nursery, made new friends and developed new skills. I’ve been making up my own songs for ages, and dancing vigorously along, but last week at the nursery, I added another feather to my cap (this is figurative, you understand, I wouldn’t trust a cap as far as I could throw it). I did my first painting in lovely blues, greens and yellows- an abstract of a gorgeous summer’s day, because I do love the outdoors and I’m out playing every chance I get.

My Dida’s presence this summer also means I’m picking up lots of new words in Bengali. I always called my Daddy ‘Baba’ (Bengali for father) and Mommy, my very own variation, ‘mum-mum’, but now I can say ‘Dida’ too, and a range of phrases that sound suspiciously like Bengali but not quite! If my pronunciation (in either language) isn’t spot-on yet, I make up for it by having a very expressive face and gestures that leave no one in doubt about what I mean. I wave, clap, point, and mimic and do many other apparently hilarious things that send everyone into paroxysms of laughter.

Of course, I’ve been speaking for a while now so the really big news is that I have taken my first unaided steps. I can also climb (and clamber off) really well and run ever so quickly with my walker but everyone seems far more impressed with those little unexciting steps I’ve been taking. I now not only stand on my own for ages but also lift quite large, heavy items while standing unsupported which makes Mommy wonder whether she should have named me Bam Bam instead!

Mommy and Daddy and Dida will probably tell me there’s more to write about, but I must bid you adieu for now because I’m a busy baby with things to do. Mommy has another flurry of hospital appointments this week and I am determined to give her moral support. This is hard but satisfying work consisting of never letting her out of my sight when she’s at home and letting her kiss and cuddle me to her heart’s content (though I’m a tad too old for it now but I won’t tell her just yet). All in all, I’m a baby with serious responsibilities that I must discharge to the best of my abilities.

So, it’s goodbye for now but I will drop in to say hello and update you on my exciting life every now and then and when my little brother or sister is born, you will be the first to know!

Daddy Cool

2009-04-30T08:58:00.017+01:00

This one’s for my Daddy because he’s the bestest Daddy in the World. I know this is true because of everything he does for me and the wonderful time we have together. I love Mommy more than I can even express but she plays like a girl so my day doesn’t get really exciting till Daddy comes home.

I am to be found hanging from the safety gate at the top of the stairs the minute I hear the front door open in the evenings because I know it could only be Daddy, and then I fall on him with glee and we have a right old wrestle.

Sometimes I run away with his socks when he changes into his ‘home clothes’. He then chases me down (not very well, I’m very quick) and tickles me till I let go of them. I’m not sure why Mommy and Daddy don’t want me chewing on worn socks; maybe they think it will spoil my appetite for dinner.

After we’ve had some time to play, Daddy makes dinner and we all sit down to eat. Nowadays, we all eat the same food (or so they tell me but it still looks different- all gooey and mashed up in a plastic bowl, with none of the colours and textures I can see on their plates)! Anyway, I do like some of the food I’m given but I’m not a big eater so the last morsels always end up on the floor (where else would you leave leftovers?).

While Mommy cleans up afterwards, Daddy gives me a bath. This is my favourite part of the day because although I miss Mommy for a little bit, I forget as soon as I’m immersed in the soothing, warm, bubble bath in my own bluey-green tub with the orange and yellow fish on it. I’m joined by my blue whale which has different shaped holes in his tummy through which I expertly push the right shaped objects; this is super-squelchy and fun! I also have three, yellow, rubber duckies who bob around me comfortingly in a protective circle and my collection of bath books. These are brightly illustrated rubber books about sea creatures that I simply adore which have to be read to me many, many times a day, in or out of the bath. I can tell Freddie and Sid from Wanda and Tilly and I always point out the interesting details in the pictures such as the little fishes, brightly coloured shells or undersea flora, for Mommy and Daddy to admire.

My favourite is Sid the Shark who is in terrible pain as he’s growing new teeth like me but when they are all out, the pain goes away and Sid becomes the proud, pain-free owner of a sharp collection of new teeth. It gives me hope.

When I tire of my tub and persistently attempt standing up in it (to show my parents that I’m a busy baby with things to do; I can’t afford to while away the whole evening lying in a bath!), Mommy wraps me up in my fluffy, blue, baby bathrobe and dries me and puts me in a fresh nappy.

In the meantime, Daddy makes my favourite meal of the day- rusk with milk, banana or apple for supper! I’ve seen him slip something else into it, he says it’s vitamins, I think it might be a Mickey Finn because I invariably fall asleep soon after! Of course, I don’t stay asleep for very long- no, not me, I’m not one for sleeping and babyish things like that- but the lovely, warm, bubble bath and my yummy supper gets me through two or three hours.

On weekends, Daddy and I have lots more fun; all three of us go to loads of places together but sometimes I take Daddy to the supermarket on my own if Mommy is tidying the house and doesn’t want him underfoot. Now that the weather is better, we spend time in our garden which is full of wonderful new things for me to explore. I scuttle all over the grass finding twigs and soil to chew on and little flowers to shred; activities Mommy and Daddy don’t seem too keen on, so, Daddy, then, takes me out into the Close for a good workout with my walker, and like in Calcutta or Dubai, my stellar presence soon draws the neighbours from their houses and within seconds, I’m surrounded by cooing grown-ups and not able to get much exercise at all. Still, I’m not complaining- who doesn’t like being appreciated after all?

Which brings me to why I’m writing this post- because I want my Daddy to know, on this, his birthday week, how much he’s loved and appreciated, both by me and Mommy. And though we couldn’t do anything really special for him this time as we were both down with flu (not swine flu, I think, the only little piggies I know are on my feet), we hope he still enjoyed his birthday.

He got cards and phone calls from all over, and Grandma and Grandad took us to our favourite baby-friendly pub for a hearty dinner (the ice cream and chocolate sauce was particularly good) but this had to happen the day before his birthday as he had the dentist to visit for two nasty fillings on his big day (big day for pain morelike, poor Daddy)!

Never mind, Mommy and I are at this very moment planning his next birthday, his 35th, so that it’s ultra-cool for a supercool Dad. In the meantime, there’s fun stuff to do as I’ve bought him the Dark Knight on DVD which I’m sure we’ll enjoy together (though I often find myself being rocked to sleep just before we settle down for a movie, coincidence or cunning plan, do you think??).

The Next Big Thing is my 1st birthday, coming up on Sunday. Tell you all about it very soon!

Further Tales from the Orient

2009-04-11T22:13:00.030+01:00

Where was I? Oh yes, I wanted to tell you more about my Kolkata trip- the people, the parties and the presents! I would’ve written this post sooner but I have been busy growing up- sprouting two more teeth, standing without holding (very occasionally and only till the wobbles bring me down to earth with a thump!), pointing to make myself understood, talking non-stop in my own language and mirroring Mommy and Daddy’s every movement.

So, travel back in time to Kolkata with me now and let me introduce you to the people I met there because that’s what made it so special.

I’ve already told you about seeing Dadu for the first time, being reunited with Dida, meeting Budida and Pishi(moni)dida, also for the first time, and then, of course, the Ma-sheep landed (no, I haven’t got my critters confused, the Ma-sheep is the only one of it's ilk that can fly)!

But to go back to the beginning- within a few short days of our arrival, I had settled in nicely into my new routine of starting the day sharing a biscuit and a turn on the sunny flowerpot-filled terrace with Dadu, with me pushing Dida’s wicker stool ahead of me for balance (and Dadu hoping he won’t need to do that for another twenty years at least!). This was followed by brekky with Mommy and Dida, a chilly (aaaargh) bath in my own blue tub with Daddy’s help, elevenses and a rousing game of ‘Peek-a-boo’ at Budida’s, lunchtime, siesta and balmy evening trips to local markets and shopping malls interspersed with play, play and more play.

Playtime in the evenings with Dadu was fabulous fun because it involved boisterous tussles which I inavariably won! And just because Dadu was such a great sport who didn't mind losing every day, I always rewarded him with my special Headbutt of Love which I know he enjoyed (how could he not?).

I had exciting things to play with too- the toy train that chugged along happily but eccentrically by itself, a range of squeezy, squeaky (and Dettol-fiiled!) cars and a bright soft ball that jingled when rolled. I also had all of Dida and Dadu’s venerable Filipino cane furniture at my disposal. Then, there was the paper, masses of paper- paper to roll in, to chew and to tear (and to read, of course, but the reading experience is definitely enhanced by giving the stuff a bit of a mauling first; trust me)!

And while I worked hard at giving Dida and Dadu’s home a new, more natural look (I call it ‘windswept’ but I guess it could also be called ‘hurricane-hit’!), a steady stream of guests poured in every evening, all of them bearing toys and books and lovely clothes for me. Even if they hadn’t brought a thing, I can genuinely say I would’ve enjoyed each visit for all the attention they lavished on me. Every evening ended with me doing a victory lap with my wicker stool after every baby trick of mine had been met with great approbation and applause!

Then, one evening Dadu and Dida disappeared, to return triumphantly several hours later with the eagerly awaited Ma-sheep. The Ma-sheep is Mommy’s younger sister and would ordinarily have been called ‘Mashi’ (‘maternal aunt’ in Bengali) but her curly hair and delight in mothering me made the self-christened name seem very apt, and so, it stuck. She, too, brought gifts (watch out for my snazzy navy and yellow Cookie Monster track suit!) and a whirlwind of activity into our quiet Calcuttan existence that culminated in Dida’s 60th birthday bash.

Don’t get me wrong, the Ma-sheep herself is a bit too chilled to occasion comparisons with forces of nature (which is equally true of Mommy and all her family, maybe even the whole of Kolkata) but with her arrival, life at MJP became positively frenetic (by Bengali standards)!

Dida’s birthday was, of course, just 'round the corner and the party was supposed to be a surprise, so, arrangements were being made every time she stepped outside the house. It was a little surreal, like a game of ‘Statue’ where whilst the ‘It’ turns her back on her playmates, the latter run up as close as they can, but when she turns round to look at them they have to freeze. The objective of the game is to touch the It and run away before she turns you into a statue yet again. So, while Dida was at home, everyone lounged about as if they hadn’t a care in the world (or a party to arrange), but the minute her back was turned the house became a hive of activity- crockery and cutlery being set out, my messes cleaned up, invites being issued, food ordered, my messes cleaned up, and so on...

The big day arrived, and Mommy and Ma-sheep finally stopped speaking in whispers and even considered breathing a collective sigh of relief because everything seemed in place. Everyone else involved in organising it (notably Dadu, Mesho and the household help) had been sworn to secrecy, and Dida and anyone who'd asked had been told categorically that there was nothing happening. It was to be an extra special surprise because Dida’s friends from school, university, teaching and her choir had been invited- in a 'This is your life' sort of way. It was going to be perfect!

Except, of course, that a few hours before the bash, Dida started getting a barrage of phone calls from her friends (obviously more lost than long-lost!) asking for directions to the house, but the final straw was the call from the caterers to the wrong mobile (Dida’s instead of Ma-sheep’s) to say they (along with all the food) had gone astray!

I know Mommy and Ma-sheep were a trifle disappointed with the turn of events but Dida has assured me that she was still very surprised and enormously pleased with the party she was thrown. I know I had fun! I got to mingle with yet another throng of terrific people including Mesho. Everyone tucked into excellent food, sang happy birthday (mostly in key), and left replete.

Unfortunately, that was the beginning of the end, because after that, first Ma-sheep and Mesho flew back to Bangalore and then it was our turn to go home. I missed Ma-sheep heaps but worse was to come, I was going to be parted from Dadu and Dida and Budida too. We were all terribly blue that it was over so soon. Tears were shed and hugs and kisses exchanged at the airport and promises made to visit in a few months. There was a lot of drama regarding flight seats on the way back (that’s another story) but it was overshadowed by how bereft we all felt on our journey home.

I still miss them now that I am home but I have plenty to look forward to too; I’m spending Easter with my English family tomorrow, after that, it's Daddy’s birthday- the first one I’ve spent with him, I may also be joining a nursery school very, very soon and I have my first birthday coming up in 3 weeks!

And then, later in the summer, I will be reunited with my Dida and Dadu who will come to visit me in England!

It’s gonna be a brilliant summer!

Eastern Delight

2009-03-22T18:45:00.025Z

If all's been quiet on the western front, it’s because I had gone east. I travelled to Kolkata and had the time of my life! I met so many wonderful people, did such a lot of new stuff and had sooo much fun that I don’t know where to begin describing it all to you.

I guess I could begin at the beginning with our journey to Kolkata. We had to stop in Dubai on our way there. Knowing how tiring the whole thing was going to be for my parents (they are getting on a bit at 30+), I decided to be very, very good all the way to Dubai. I watched the world grow tiny from my window seat, flirted with a fellow passenger- an ‘older woman’ of six years of age, and even deigned to sleep in the cramped bassinet the airline provided.

Once in Dubai, we had to make a mad dash for the connecting flight because our flight in was dreadfully late. Already a little shook up, I couldn’t stay on my best behaviour (though I tried my best) during take-off when the growing pressure in the cabin really hurt my ears. I howled and howled, partly from frustration as my parents ineffectually handed me bottles and rattles and other baby things that are just too juvenile for me. I could’ve told them to hand me a biscuit to munch on if I wasn’t in so much pain and quite so busy howling. Luckily, they figured it out for themselves before the flight back (they may not have my lightning-quick wit but they do their best).

There was good news and bad news waiting for us at Kolkata Airport. The bad news was that the airlines had lost our bag with all my baby food (and most of the gifts for our family) but I forgot all about it the minute I saw Dida and Dadu waiting for us at the exit, ready to take me home.

On the way home, I got so hot and sweaty that Mommy and Daddy peeled off all my clothes before Pishi(moni)Dida and Budida, my great grandmother, saw me for the very first time. I was embarrassed to be presented in this roody noody state as I like to make a good first impression but they seemed thrilled to see me nevertheless!

Home turned out to be an eccentrically shaped pink three-storied house in Jodhpur Park that my Mommy had grown up in. I felt right at home straight away. Despite her reputation, Dida didn’t bat an eyelid as I rearranged furniture, remodelled her best crockery (some might say ‘broke’) and lightened the load on Dida and Dadu’s crowded bookshelves.

I made friends with all the ladies who work at our house. They seemed awfully exotic to me with their bright saris and incessant chatter and activity. Though I was introduced to saris when Dida came over last year I had never seen such a flurry of them before and the colours, not only of their saris but of everything in India, dazzled me.

I did exciting new things like sat up in the car when we travelled (India has different car safety laws) and nimbly walked on cool, tiled floors, using Dida’s light wicker stools for walkers. I experienced real heat for the first time as Kolkata sweltered in it’s hottest spring in twenty years (lots of cold baths and Dadu and Dida’s air-conditioned guest room kept me cool). I tasted wonderful new food like that lovely spicy ‘fish fry’ that Mommy and Daddy let me have a tiny bit of. I was especially thrilled to be able to use all of my eight brand new teeth!

And I met people- droves of people, warm friendly people, people who just couldn’t get enough of me (I am a bit of a star in the UK as well but it’s the difference between being Abhishek and Amitabh Bachchan)! Not only did I revel in showing off my many advanced baby skills to family, close relatives and old friends, I was also quite a draw at the shopping malls, restaurants and markets we visited. I wasn’t just the lucky recipient of coos, cuddles and compliments from the people close to me, complete strangers on the plane, at the airports and everywhere we went waved, shook my hand, pinched my cheek (which every baby learns to grin and bear) and had oodles of questions for Mommy and Daddy about me. Eat your hearts out Brangelina!

What I really want to write about are the very special family members I met for the first time- Dadu, Mashi and Budida. I’d love to tell you about becoming best buddies with Dadu, being mothered by Mashi and Dida and the brilliant chats with Budida, but I can’t. Not today. Today is Mother’s Day you see and it’s only fair I devote all my time to Mommy (even though that’s what I do most days)! I have bought her a very cute card, a great box of choccies and the latest Alexander McCall Smith book which she’ll love but I know it’s the time you spend with your loved ones that really counts. And that’s the only thing that makes me sad about my Kolkata trip- it was much too short.

But a baby can’t be gloomy for too long so let me tell you what I’m planning for my next post. It’ll be all about the fabulous time I spent with my family; the manly bonding with Dadu, the coming of the Ma-sheep, my Dida’s 60th birthday and finally, sadly, our trip back.

Till then, happy Mother’s Day to all the mommies out there and fear not, my faithful fans, I shall not take as long between posts as I have recently.

P.S. For those who are wondering if I have forgotten about saving Ashdown Woods from the rampaging Honey Monster, I have not, but as any good strategist knows, you have to strike when the time is right. I am awaiting my moment.

Snow White and the Seven Teeth

2009-02-04T22:35:00.012Z

Here’s a quick recount of the new things I’ve experienced this week.

I’ve seen snow, so much snow that the world around me turned into a Winter Wonderland overnight! Our garden looked particularly pretty decked out in swathes of frost. Mommy gave me a piggyback so I could get a good view from our upstairs window.

I saw the snow fall too in little swirls of frosty flakes that was simply the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Daddy didn’t get to watch it with me because he was at work (although most of the country stayed home, according to the news). Mommy said Daddy would’ve liked to have watched the snowfall with me but he had to go out to bring home the bacon. I don’t eat bacon but I guess Mommy would have gone hungry if he hadn’t.

It won’t be long though before I can eat almost everything because I now have seven...yes, seven teeth! Three new ones to join the four I’d already told you about. They are all coming through in a rush, unsettling and upsetting me sometimes, as they ache and itch in a way that makes me want to gnaw on all sorts of (unsuitable, according to my parents) things. I particularly like wire, rubber flip flops, grown-up fingers and buttons, none of which I’m permitted to have!

To make up for all the things I’m not allowed to chew on, Mommy and Daddy baked a batch of yummy triple chocolate muffins on Sunday. Because they are homemade, with the most wholesome of ingredients, I can have little bits as a treat. And they are ever so scrumptious! Mommy must think so too because they’re almost all gone but as it’s the first time she’s made muffins she obviously needs to taste as many as possible to make sure they’ve come out just right!

Anyway folks, it’s time for my rusk and milk so I’ll bid you good night.

Don’t forget to join me in Ashdown Woods; I need all the reinforcements I can get when I go on the trail of the hunny monster!

A Beary Sticky Situation

2009-01-31T20:31:00.032Z

Last weekend, my friend Chris (Mr. Robin to you) went on a holiday with his parents and left me in charge of his little patch in Ashdown Woods. Chris is practically an adult at 6 years old, that’s why he’s allowed to have his own scrap of woodland, peopled with creatures from his father’s imagination- a bear of little brain, a depressive donkey and a squeaky piggy.

I am too young to have a full fledged world of my own, though I do have the beginnings of one (I know Mommy & Daddy have noticed me playing games of make-believe where my toys live their lives by complex rules I have set them). Still, it was good to have a go at administering an imaginative landscape that’s ancient compared to mine, and fully formed, unlike mine.

I went down to the woods the first chance I got last Saturday to say hello to my new subjects, but there was no-one around! All the windows were tightly shut and on each door hung identical signs- ‘NO WAN ET HUM’!

I stood in the clearing between the little cottages, befuddled, and wondering what to do. Where had everybody gone? Could this be the end of my brief career as the (acting) ruler of a country of fictitious critters? Pom-Pum-Tum (dramatic background music)

I was about to throw in the muzzie and go home when I heard a squeak and a rustle. And then I saw the tip of a curly pink tail disappear quickly into a crack in one of the tiny houses. They were there after all, just hiding!

Ooh, I do love a game of Hide and Seek but I figured I should introduce myself first.
“Piglet!” I cried, “Eeyore and Pooh, come out and play with me. I’ve brought toys and I have so many good ideas for games!”
“Go home” yelled a little voice, “And take your grubby, hunny-grabbing paws with you!”
“Yes” quavered another, “We don’t want your games. We just want our hunny back!”
“But I haven’t taken your honey!” I cried, feeling a tad aggrieved, “I’m not allowed to have any till I’m one. I can prove it...” And I picked up my heels and hurried home.

I wasn’t running away from the problem, you understand, I was heading home to dig into Mommy’s Baby File where I knew I’d find proof of my innocence. I was ever so quiet as I went about my business because Mommy doesn’t like me messing with her important papers. Little does she know that though I may look like I'm playing, I'm really making sure everything is in order as she can be a wee bit scatty sometimes (don’t tell her I said so)! I found what I was looking for at the bottom of a pile of 'Baby Do’s and Don’ts'. Written in bold on the ‘What Not to Feed Baby’ chart were the crucial words- ‘BABY IS NOT ALLOWED HONEY TILL HE’S ONE’!

Just as I was about to scamper back, I was scooped up and held tight.
“Gotcha” Mommy said, “Playing with my papers again!”

Caught red-handed- was this the end of the road for me and my woodland friends?! Pom-Pum-Tum (more dramatic background music)

I was disheartened momentarily till I remembered that this was Mommy and she always understood. So I told her everything. She listened with interest and then suggested that on top of the baby food chart as evidence, wouldn’t it be a good idea to take them a jar of honey to replace what they'd lost?

As I returned to the clearing bearing gifts, all the critters came tumbling out of their hidey holes, at first warily, and then with alacrity as news of that large pot of honey spread.

Eeyore took a good long look at the ‘Baby Do’s and Don’ts’ chart with his reading glasses awobble on his snout, and then declared to the gathering with his usual gravitas- “HEE NUT TEK DA HUNNY”. They cheered loudly in response and gathered ‘round for their share.

I had won the day. And when Pooh offered me some of his small (by his standards) portion of honey, I knew I’d made friends too (I didn’t have any of it, I swear; oh, maybe just a little, but it's not a patch on chocolate)!

All's well that ends well, you say, but one problem remained...

Who had stolen their honey???
Pom-Pum-Tum (dramatic background music reaches a crescendo)

Join me for the next instalment as I return to Ashdown Woods to hunt down the heinous hunny thief!

A Whirlwind Week

2009-01-21T20:40:00.010Z

Well, folks, I’m back after a week packed with activity and have I got news for you- I’ve now got two front teeth to complement the two bottom ones that had come out earlier!! I’ve also joined a playgroup and I don’t know which is better: the front teeth with which I can munch on crunchier snacks such as baby biscuits and my favourite carrot and coriander flavoured corn chips or being part of a playgroup which gives me access to a whole new collection of toys to play with (bash up, Mommy says). I can also have a sophisticated tête-à-tête with Erin’s mommy or Jason’s gran at the playgroup. Mommy says I’m supposed to mingle with the other babies but can I help it if I find the state of the economy more interesting than ‘goo-goo-ga-ga-poo-bah’? Luckily, it’s not an either-or; I can have both the nibbles and the play sessions!

Bet you’re wishing you could trade places with me, but even a baby’s life is not all fun and games. Earlier this week, I had to look after Mommy and Daddy when, first, Daddy went down with a terrible case of food poisoning and then, Mommy caught a mild strain of the bug. I did my bit by sticking to Mommy like glue and complaining loudly if she left me for a moment, which I felt was the best way to take her mind off their troubles. A big thank you though to Aunties Diane and Cate for being such a huge help to Mommy and Daddy (almost as much as me!) and even to the local doctor who came out to see Daddy when he could barely get up after 16 hours of unrelenting sickness.

We also attended Great Grandma’s funeral last week. Whilst it was a very sad occasion, it was also a celebration of her life and love for family and friends. And so, amidst the sorrow, some funny, some sweet anecdotes about her were read out at the ceremony, as well as swapped at the gathering afterwards. Two of her favourite songs were played (very nice ones; I tried to sing along but Daddy shushed me). Cousin Eleanor and Cousin Matthew who are both about two years old and I (over 8 months now) impressed everyone with our good behaviour during the ceremony. So, despite the overcast morning and sombre event, it was not without joy and I think that’s how Great Grandma would have wanted it.

To end on a happy note, I must mention that my blog has had it’s 500th hit tonight. This is particularly satisfying as I disabled the cookies (mmm, wonder where that last bit of bickie went?) on our own computer from the start, so, when Mommy or Daddy or I visit my blog it does not count, which means some of you out there have returned more than once to read about my adventures! What could be more gratifying to a baby blogger?? Thank you all and good night!

In Vein

2009-01-08T23:05:00.019Z

I went to the hospital for my kidney tests today. I have had a dodgy kidney since I was in Mommy’s tummy. It is only marginally wonky, but the doctors have conducted a lot of tests on me to find out why it doesn’t work as well as it should. As none of the tests were conclusive, they asked us to come in for a ‘Maggie’. A Maggie is a test where they pass a tiny dose of radioactive fluid through a vein so they can follow it’s journey through the kidney and find the blockage. When Daddy explained this to me, I quite fancied being mildly radioactive like a superhero (which, of course, many of my fans think I am, but I’m not. Not really) but it didn’t turn out to be much fun after all.

I haven’t been very well lately and hadn’t slept much when I was awakened at 6 am (I could’ve said ‘rudely’ but actually Mommy woke me up with milk and a cuddle) to go to the hospital. We arrived early and were shown into a playroom where I found a drum to bang on (give me a noisy toy and I’m content) and thought this may be a good day after all. But it was not to be. I should have guessed when the strange wheezy baby next to me was taken away that this was not a happy place for babies.

First, I was stripped and weighed on freezing cold scales, then stretched on this rack like thing to check my height. As a final indignity before the main tests began, a wee bag was left dangling from a certain part of my body- embarrassing and uncomfortable!

I was then taken down to the ultrasound room where a doctor spread an icky goo on my chest and back and then prodded me for the next twenty minutes with a cold thingammie whilst the very irritating Tinky Winky, Dipsy and Lala pranced on strings above me. What really got my goat was that he totally ignored my cries of protest to stare fixedly at some squiggly grey things squirming on a screen. Mommy told me later that he was looking at pictures of my kidney, which is all very well, I know people find every inch of me fascinating, but couldn’t I have been spared the torture of the dancing Teletubbies?

Finally, the big moment arrived and I was put on another icy table to be prepped for ‘Maggie’. I had a grim foreboding that this was not going to be a lark when they put numbing anaesthetic gel on my hands and feet. As if not being able to feel your extremities wasn’t bad enough, the nurse then brought out a battery of needles and started sticking them into me! I howled and howled. I howled so hard that Mommy burst into tears! Daddy carried on stoically jiggling a purple spotted bear (was it ill?) in front of me but I could see he wasn’t too keen on proceedings either.

But it was all in vain (it’s a good thing we, babies, have short memories, I can now see the funny side of this morning’s events). Once they had jabbed me in every conceivable place looking for a vein to stick the intravenous tube into and drawn a blank, they had to call it off, but not before I’d managed to pinch the nurse hard for making Mommy cry and me, feel like a pincushion!

I slept all the way home after that and woke to kisses and cuddles from Mommy and Daddy, and milk, the cure for all ills (sadly, not for a loopy kidney)!

Unfortunately, this story doesn’t end here as I may be recalled for a Maggie when I’m slightly older and have less elusive veins, but we are all keeping our fingers crossed that the consultant looks at the results of the string of tests taken today and declares me well enough to be given the ‘all clear’!

2009-01-03T13:59:00.003Z

Missing you, Great Grandma.

Love
Syon
xxx

Months of Milestones

2008-12-31T19:26:00.016Z

What a year it’s been (well, just short of 8 months, really, for me)! So packed full of milestones that I don’t know where to start when it comes to rounding it up for my readers...

First, of course, there was my birth in May which was quite eventful according to Mommy and Daddy, though I don’t remember that much about it. I gather it took a long time and quite a bit of pain to bring me into the world (even I remember those nasty forceps)! Mommy says what she got in the end (me!) was worth all the pain and she would do it again (but just the once more).

Then, there was getting to know all my family and friends, and their generosity, as visitors bearing gift after wonderful gift arrived at our home following my birth. As I’d mentioned in an earlier post, I quickly organised my new toys into a smoothly functioning unit of cohorts with me, firmly, in charge! That was just the beginning of all the things I learnt to do in the space of a few months. And now I can walk a few steps unaided (as long as I can grab-a-hold of something sturdy)!

Most of all, I can now show Mommy and Daddy how much I love them in return for all the love and care they shower upon me. My face lights up when I see them, I smile when they smile and my little arms reach out and hold them tight when I want to demonstrate how much they mean to me.

I also got to know and love my Grandma and Grandad, and all my English family, with whom I went on my first holiday to France (and with whom I spent my first magical Christmas, but I’ll get to that later).

I also spent a fantastic month with my Dida who flew to the UK to meet me. We grew to know and love each other, as I did the rest of my family in India. With the latter, mostly through phone calls and webchats because I haven’t met them yet but will very soon! I did get to meet my uncle and aunt from Switzerland who visited me when I was very young and though, regrettably, I can’t remember them that well, the Jumperoo they gave me opened up a whole new world of fabulous adventures for me.

While my Dida was here, we celebrated my first solid feed or ‘Annaprashan’. I was fed from specially inscribed lovely silver crockery sent by my Indian family, with all my English friends and family in attendance, which made it a very special day indeed. My Dida left soon after but I am still singing the songs she sang to me while she was here.

The year ended with a brilliant Christmas celebration at my Grandad and Grandma’s house where we ate and drank and made merry but we also missed Great Grandma’s presence as she fell ill and had to, sadly, be hospitalised (thinking of you as I write this, Great Grandma, and hoping you get better soon). I got so many terrific toys, colourful books and attractive clothes from all of my family and friends that I wouldn’t know where to start if I had to list them (best not to, in case Santa thinks he can skip next year)!

But before that, on Christmas Eve, I clocked up another exciting first when I went on my first train ride from Chesterfield to Sheffield as Mommy and Daddy took me to meet their friends and workmates. I met Liz and Karen from Daddy’s team and spent a fun few hours with Unca Brian and Aunty Carola in Sheffield, nipping across to Mommy and Daddy’s old workplace (where they'd met!) to meet Unca George and Aunty Hana too. Off we went to Donny after that, touching base with my friends Eddie and Evan before we got down to the serious business of a family Christmas!

Phew. What a momentous few months it has been. And I’ve got so much to look forward to in the New Year starting with the long awaited trip to India to meet some very special family members like Dadu and Mashi and Budida.

2009, are you ready for me? Coz here I come!!!

Note: Do watch my Christmas slideshow for all my festive photos.

A Merry Missive

2008-12-19T19:18:00.019Z

To
Mr Santa Claus
North Pole
SAN TA1

Dear Great Unca Nick,

This is the second letter I’m writing to you, this time to let you know that I have found the perfect gift for Mommy and Daddy and won’t need your help after all. Do you remember I said I didn’t know what to get them (they seem over the moon having got me this year and are always saying there’s nothing more they want)?

Well, I thought about it long and hard and decided that since they say I’m the best thing they’ve ever had, I should really get them something along the same lines; no, not another baby, they’ll have to ask the Stork for that. But I could get them a better version of me (I know you're thinking, like Mommy and Daddy, that that's not possible)!

Let me explain. Remember Jack Nicholson in ‘As Good As It Gets’ telling Helen Hunt that she makes him “want to be a better man”? Well, Mommy and Daddy’s infinite love and care makes me want to be a better baby.

Don’t get me wrong- I’m no angel and never will be! My world wouldn’t be the same without my daily diversions of pulling Mommy’s hair and pummelling my toys with my plastic hammer. Persistently throwing things from my high chair so my parents pick them up time and again is a teatime treat I couldn’t live without. And I really couldn’t get through a meal without grabbing my spoon and dashing it to the ground just as Mommy brought a big, wobbly spoonful to my mouth. You’ve got to admit giving these innocent little distractions up would be asking too much of any spirited baby. And that’s not the kind of cold turkey I have in mind for Christmas!

What I have been doing in my spare time (in between feeds and play sessions; I don’t nap, such a mindless waste of time- yawwwn) is perfecting my crawl for Mommy. I’ve been practising when her back’s been turned so she thinks I can’t crawl properly yet, but I can really. I’ve been pulling the wool over her eyes (a marvellous metaphor for a Christmas post, methinks!) with my deliberately ungainly caterpillar crawl but come Christmas morn, I shall unveil my new super-smooth slither! I figured it would be a good gift for her because I can then go wherever she goes without her having to pick me up as I am getting quite heavy (and she isn’t very big for a ‘big person’).

For Daddy, I’ve sussed sitting up unassisted so we can have a man-to-man grapple and play other macho games when he comes home from work every day! But there's this little business of falling over I still do which I need to straighten out before the big day. I’ve been trying to learn to stand without support as well but I don’t think I’ll have that wrapped up for Christmas. And although I can’t stand yet, I do have my feet firmly planted on the ground and know that that might have to be my Valentine to my two favourite people (always a forward-thinking baby, me)!

I suppose Valentine’s pressies are outside your remit Santa; you wouldn’t have Cupid’s address, would you?

Christmas Cuddles,
From Syon

Lincoln Green

2008-12-09T19:35:00.018Z

We went to the Christmas Market in Lincoln last Saturday with Grandma and Grandad. I was left to look after them the evening before when Mommy and Daddy flounced off to a Christmas do with our neighbours. I had a great time with them although I think I rather worried them with my histrionics at bedtime (but what’s a thespian to do?)!

We had seats on the morning train to Lincoln. However, despite getting there in time (against all the odds), we weren’t allowed on because they had overbooked! The next train was a whole hour away so we decided to drive to Lincoln instead. I suppose we were a little bit green (a good colour to be, at Christmas!) to think that the path to Lincoln would be smooth on a day when 80,000 visit their festive market, but I would have loved a ride on the ol’ choo-choo. Maybe we’ll try an Indian train when we’re there next year (though Mommy says they get a tad crowded too)!

Once we got there, we had a brilliant time although we were very, very cold. At least, that’s’ what my parents and grandparents said as they knocked back brandy, liqueur and mulled wine! I kept warm by snuggling against Daddy (in my sling).

The market took up all of the historic quarter of Lincoln; stalls dotted the cathedral close and jostled for space in the castle square. And swirling around each was a tumultous sea of beady-eyed bargain hunters. Mommy, Daddy and my grandparents all agreed with me that we should return on a weekday next year, because although the Christmas market was wonderfully colourful and cheery and bags of fun, it was so packed we couldn’t get close enough to the stalls to do any shopping and all we came home with was a handful of nuts (yummy cinnamon coated ones though)! Oh, and a lovely Christmas wreath of orange peel, dried chillies and cinnamon sticks that now hangs in our hall.

On Sunday morning, Mommy, Daddy and my grandparents helped me do up our six-foot Christmas tree with pretty baubles from India, England and Germany, and a very special new one with my name on it which Grandma and Granddad had brought me for this, my very first Christmas!

With the house looking festive and the shopping done, I’m all set for my first Christmas. I would count the days if I could count but what I can do is keep my very sharp baby ears pricked for Santa...

Is that you I hear on the roof?!!

Busy B

2008-11-25T18:27:00.008Z

I’ve been a very busy baby lately that’s why I haven’t posted anything new on my blog for a while. But yesterday when my fans staged a protest march and a hunger strike outside my home, I felt compelled to issue an apology for my silence. I did not want rumbling tummies on my conscience, nor Mommy upset about people peeping through our windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favourite baby blogger.

I am truly sorry I haven’t written, but my fans will have to learn to occasionally get through the week without my pearls of wisdom to guide them, because my diary is simply heaving with engagements all the way up to the New Year.

This week I’ve been Christmas shopping. I shopped till I dropped (off to sleep) but I still have some gift hunting left to do. Such is the plight of a baby with a large social network. It does seem unfair that Mommy and Daddy can sit back (unlike me) and let Santa get all my gifts from the list I've sent him!

I also attended my first birthday party. Not my own, as I am just over 6 months old, but a really fun party thrown by my much older (a whole 6 months!) friend Sol in Sheffield. While all the girls swooned over me and Sol, Mommy tried all the desserts. Daddy wouldn’t let me sip his champagne but we shared a banana which kept me happy till tea time.

Then, on Monday, we took Mommy to hospital for her operation. She put on a green tent-like thing and disappeared behind some doors. I couldn’t wave to her although I wanted to, because I couldn’t move my arms much in my big warm overalls, which I was wearing for the first time as it was a particularly frosty morning. I didn’t get much time to feel sad about it though because Mommy popped out of the operation theatre just a quarter of an hour later to say that she didn't need one after all! The doctor, who’d seen her a month and a half ago, had had another look and was pleasantly surprised to see that the problem area had (finally) healed and no intervention was necessary, which was fantastic news.

And that was the week that was, folks. I promise to try and write again real soon although I have another busy week ahead, full of parties and more shopping and my first trip to the hair dresser (sadly, not for me, though I quite fancy a new look to go with my new teeth)!

A Fangtastic Development

2008-11-14T17:04:00.008Z

After months of angst (and dribble), I have got to the root of my troubles- there is a growth and it’s in my mouth. In fact, there are two (and a half) of them and they are called teeth!

They look and feel a tad strange, like bits of chewy baby rice I’ve forgotten to swallow. I was in great discomfort when they were coming through but now I wouldn’t be without them (although I will have to part with them in a few years, I’m told, but only to make way for others). What are the advantages of teeth you cry, my baby brethren, when they cause us such pain and grief?

Well, for one, I have a dazzling new smile. Show me one Hollywood hunk without pearly whites and I will show you…a baby; a baby who will only ever do the one role and then disappear from our screens forever! And it’s not just about superficialities like appearance, everything I do seems to have more bite (hardy har har).

Chomping on my parents’ fingers is so much more satisfying than it used to be; the occasional anguished scream when I sink my new teeth in is also quite exciting! Plus, I can now show my two toy pooches, Popsi and Pru, who’s boss with a well placed nip or two. Two can play at the same game, you see!

But most importantly, my gastronomic horizons have broadened beyond belief. Just yesterday I was having milk, milk and more milk. Today I can have nibbles, finger foods and little snackeroos I can play with before I eat! It makes my head spin just thinking of all the wonderful new munchies I can get my two (and a half) teeth into!

What more can I say to persuade you to grow teeth, my infant friends, except that it is your passport to foodie heaven? Talking of Foodies, this one must now toddle off to have his tea...

I Can Be Obama

2008-11-07T01:20:00.016Z

Yes, I can.

Mommy cried when Barack Obama gave his US presidential election victory speech at 4 am on Wednesday (or maybe she cried because I’d kept her up all night). She told me that Obama is a beacon of hope for many people around the world. Then she said I was the light of Mommy and Daddy’s life (Daddy verified this so it must be true) therefore, I am their Obama, only smaller and cuter (though he isn't half-bad, according to her). When I grow up, I could be as inspirational as he is (or more, she said; my mommy doesn’t expect much)!

Mommy and Daddy said (all this at the crack of dawn) that I have a lot in common with President-elect Obama. I am a ‘half-outsider’ like him with an ‘unusual’ (but beautiful- Daddy emphasised) name. They hope, like him, these things can be my strength rather than my Achilles Heel (some kind of wonky body part). Like him, they hope, I can succeed on my own terms, shrugging off labels and stereotypes, proudly owning both sides of my heritage, and never watering down who I am to suit other people.

Barack Obama didn’t run to the Deed Poll people when his countrymen couldn’t tell him apart from Osama Bin Laden. When they made fun of a picture of him in a turban, he didn’t disown his Kenyan background, nor did he distance himself from his white family when some people questioned whether he was truly ‘black’. That’s the man Mommy and Daddy believe I can be (not half-Kenyan and half-American, you understand, though I could legitimately sport a turban).

If I am that kind of guy, Mommy says, the world would be my oyster. Maybe a half-closed oyster that has to be prised open, like it is with a lot of people outside the ‘mainstream’. I might have to chip away at it long and hard before opportunities open up to me, but if I have talent and guts and determination (which I shall have in spades, my parents said), then I could make it mine.

I can be Obama. Yes, I can.

But I’d rather be Lewis Hamilton (it looks like more fun)!

Note: Pictured here with my running mate Gerry the Giraffe, who is of African origin; a truly diverse partnership!

Au Revoir

2008-10-31T20:00:00.022Z

I had such a good time with my Dida; it was over much too quickly, and now I can’t wait to visit my half-homeland and see (for the first time) Dadu and Budida and Mashi and all the other family members and friends I have heard so much about!

Dida and I had a whale of a time. You’ve read about my Annaprashan and how much fun that was. We also visited the very atmospheric Bronte Parsonage in the little village of Haworth on the windswept Yorkshire Moors. I had a lively discussion about the relative merits of the novels of the three Bronte sisters with one of the tour guides there. I also enjoyed my apple juice at the little café on Haworth’s quaint main street which Branwell used to frequent (for his supply of Laudanum Mommy said, I don’t know what that is, a kind of cake, perhaps?). Mommy and Daddy did not seem to approve of my interior decorating efforts when I tipped half of Mommy’s salad on the floor (I thought it looked better there). I’m sure Dida appreciated it though!

We also visited Haddon Hall in the Derbyshire Dales. Dida loves history and literature just like Mommy so she loved Haddon Hall which has links with both. I had a relaxing sleep in my sling (attached to Daddy’s chest) through the medieval section, but woke up in time for the mini museum at the end of the tour which had an interesting collection of artefacts, all discovered when the Hall was renovated in the early 20th century. I drew Daddy’s attention to the little, weathered children’s shoes that had been unearthed under the floorboards in the old nursery. My purpose was twofold; it was an interesting exhibit and I could do with some shoes! Mommy and Daddy haven’t bought me any yet because they think babies don't need them till they can toddle, but ever since Cousin Eleanor pointed out my shoelessness in France, I have yearned for shoes.

We wrapped up the evening with a meal at our local pub. Dida does not have a pub in her locality (plenty of good restaurants though), so she wanted to sample ours', nor does she get too many opportunities to have beef steak in Calcutta as it is not that popular there.

Dida’s English sojourn ended with our Diwali celebration. Grandma and Grandad joined us for a lamp-lit cuppa and chocolate cake from Tesco’s (an old Indian tradition)!

And so, Dida’s month with me flew by, filled with fun, laughter, Indian celebrations, English history and most of all, the Bengali songs she sung to me about pomegranate-laden Kabuliwallahs and critters called Hattimatimtim.

I haven’t forgotten your songs Dida, I’ve been singing them to Mommy since you left, and when I see you next, you can teach me a few new ones (especially those about critters- they make the best songs)!

See you soon in Calcutta!

Silver Spoon

2008-10-24T16:52:00.023+01:00

I wasn’t born with one in my mouth but many of my friends and some of my family (India is a long way away and unfortunately, not everyone could join us) came together last Saturday to make up for that. What was the occasion, you say? It was my ‘Annaprashan’- a Bengali rite of passage marking a baby’s first solid feed. For this special first feed, Dida gave me a beautiful set of silver dishes she had had inscribed in Calcutta, one of which was a delicately crafted tumbler which had belonged to her as a child. She also brought me elegantly embroidered traditional Indian clothes to wear for my big day. And the proverbial silver spoon, of course, was a gift from Mashi, and very pretty it is, too.

The event started with my English family arriving just as I had got into the dashing day outfit sent by Shanta Mashi Dida. I was excited to see that even Great Grandad and Grandma and G. Aunty Nellie had made the trip for my special day! My friends trooped in before long and soon everyone was tucking into an array of dishes (almost as many as there were guests). The ceremony followed; a rice and milk mix was spooned up by one Grandma while I sat on the other’s lap. Flashbulbs popped as I wolfed it down to everyone's delight (I had been told the best food had been reserved for me but I have my doubts about that; Daddy’s lamb curry seemed to go down a storm).

With the spotlight squarely on me, Mommy brought ‘round a tray of pretty little objects symbolising different abilities and assets, e.g. a little silver palanquin for social status and a brightly covered book of Bengali tales for wisdom (and a few odds and ends they’d obviously just chucked in at random). I was supposed to pick three to show the path I'd take in later life (I think Mommy, Daddy and Dida made this up to give me a better shot at choosing the right objects, I’m reliably informed most babies just get the one chance)! Guess what I picked? A cricket ball for sporting ability, the clay pot signifying wealth and a miniature silver cart that stood for fancy wheels. I think the comparisons with Tendulkar are inevitable, don’t you? Right down to the Schumacher-gifted Ferrari that got stuck in Customs! Everyone was very happy for me; in fact, I hear Bilky Mashi is already planning her retirement.

The evening ended with fond farewells, a manly heart to heart with my friend Eddie, and an attempt by Mommy and Daddy to show off my prowess with the Jumperoo (I refused to perform however; my adventures in the Jumperoo is a secret I share with the tribes of the Amazon). When our guests had gone and the dust settled, I unwrapped my pile of presents from around the world to discover wonderful toys, books and clothes (although I must admit that the cardboard boxes are my favourite). All in all, it was the most perfect day and I’d like to thank everyone who attended (even in spirit) for making it so!

Jumperoo Jack Flash

2008-10-13T21:55:00.013+01:00

They call me Jack Flash, Jumperoo Jack Flash. The Native Americans of deepest darkest Amazon call me this because I’m agile and quick-witted. Many-a-time have I helped them vanquish nasty crocs and other creepy crawlies that threaten their homes and children (one child reported encountering a one-eyed crocodile who waved a knife under his nose and said ‘Oi’ in a menacing way). My feats of daring have established my reputation with them as ‘One to Depend on to Do the Best Of Derring-do’s’ (to be considered an ODD BOD is the highest honour amongst the tribes of the Amazon Rainforest).

This weekend I was back in the Amazon helping a venerable tribal chief rescue his daughter from some oversized bugs. They had flown off with her, mistaking her for one of their own as she was prancing about in a neon green polka dotted catsuit which the chief had brought back from New York where he occasionally went to watch his favourite Broadway musicals. But I digress. The Toms Toms summoned me to the Amazon and at the head of a handful of tribal Braves I stormed the bugs’ bastion and reunited the doting chief and his daughter. I sustained a few scratches (which Mommy questioned me about but my lips are sealed; the rainforest tribes are a reclusive people) but I think you will find the bugs fared much worse and it will be many years before they consider kidnapping another badly dressed child.

That I am writing this at all is because I want to debunk the myth that I am a superhero before I become the stuff of legend and over-the-top-tabloid tales.

I am merely human. When I scratch myself (as I do quite often in a tizzy because I’ve been put in my crib) I definitely bleed. What I do have, however, is a secret weapon- a wonderful, bouncing, music-playing, light-flashing, animal-noise-emitting vehicle (for want of a better word to describe this unique thing) which carries me into these adventures and then away, unscathed.

My Swiss aunt and uncle bought it for me thinking it would make a brilliant toy but little did they know that it was capable of much more! It has been my trusty steed in times of need and my inspiration in tight corners (like the time I outwitted a troupe of terrible toucans who held me captive in their tree, but that’s another story). I bow to you my comrade-in-arms, and to Bilky Mashi and Olaf Mesho, I say 'thank you'! For some reason Mommy and Daddy want to thank them too for ‘peace at mealtimes’- beats me what that’s about...

Our Survey Says...

2008-10-06T23:55:00.023+01:00

…that the majority of people (37%) who voted for who I look like most voted for Mommy. And so, I've posted this picture of Mommy being crowned a beauty queen because if you look like me you gotta be a champion looker, haven’t you (after all, everyone tells me I’m a cutie)? Daddy came an honourable second with 29% of the votes though many maintain (including Mommy) that I look more like Daddy but runners-up don’t merit a picture sporting a sparkly tiara! And poor ol’ George Clooney was relegated to an also-ran, mostly because he isn’t, of course, nearly as cute or cuddly as I am (Mashi said this; the real one, I think, not the imposter). As for the rest, well, they don’t even deserve a mention with the kind of votes they got! Can I tell you what I think though? I feel I’m the perfect blend of Mommy and Daddy, and I can’t think of a better look than that for any baby! Before I wrap this up, however, I would like to thank everyone who’s voted and made this poll so much fun to monitor from day to day as first George, then Daddy and then Mommy, took the lead. Do keep dropping in, Amigos Mios, and commenting and voting because I’m having a blast writing my blog for all of you!

D is for Dida

2008-10-01T18:37:00.014+01:00

A is for Anindita. B is for Boeing. C is for Coming to visit, and D is for Delighted (and Dida)!

Anindita is my Dida, Mommy’s mommy, and she flew into Heathrow on a Boeing 747 to meet me for the first time last Sunday. And I’m delighted to say we get along like a house on fire!

I must admit that I wasn’t too pleased when Mommy and Daddy dragged me out of bed at 0430 am on Sunday morning but that was because I had forgotten what it was for. It’s not something I would ever do, you see; wake them up in the middle of the night.

After a long, tiring (sleeping is an exhausting business, I tell you) drive, we arrived at this huge, cavernous place filled with people jostling for a better view of something. I thought it might be the paparazzi waiting for me (as they do) but they seemed distinctly disinterested when I turned up. Only a few turned and smiled and an old lady attempted to tickle my chin which I dodged rather deftly.

As it turned out we were at Heathrow Airport and the surging, neck-craning crowd was waiting for their friends and family to arrive. That’s when I remembered Dida was arriving that morning on a big plane called a Boeing (they call it that because of the noise it makes when it bounces on the runway) to meet me! Now I was excited!

But it was a whole hour before Dida turned up because the Immigration People (don’t ask me who they are but they sound like a boring lot) were feeling a wee bit lonely (as they often do, Mommy told me) and were stopping everyone for very long chats. I was the first to spot Dida in the crowd- a little lady dressed like an Eskimo, just like Daddy said she would be- and head-butted Daddy to draw his attention. Soon I was scooped up into a lovely, silky bedspread (Mommy says it’s called a sari) and given a cuddle.

Daddy drove us home after that, with Mommy and Dida talking nineteen to the dozen in Bengali. I could join in because I am already multilingual (English, Bengali and Baby). By the time we’d got home, Dida and I had become the best of friends and as she’s going to be here for a month, we’re going to have a groovy (Dida is a child of the 60’s) time together. Anything that does not involve going outside, of course, just in case it’s too cold!

I know people around the world are waiting with bated breath for the minutiae of our adventures together this autumn (especially Dadu who, unfortunately, couldn’t join us this time). So, watch this space for further details (like will she or won’t she venture into 'the cold')!

What Syon Did Next

2008-09-23T16:38:00.013+01:00

Since my last post, I have clocked a few more firsts.

I am now turning over on to my stomach and trying to crawl. I can’t really get anywhere much yet but everyone says I’m doing things before my time and it won’t be long before I can walk. At the moment though, I find it frustrating not to be able to go places, and occasionally my attempts end in tears. I also intend to learn to get on the big chair in front of the computer by myself as soon as possible, so Mommy can stop taking credit for helping me with my blog more than she actually does (don’t get me wrong, I love Mommy to bits, but she does exaggerate)!

I also have plenty to say. To the casual observer, my conversations with Mommy or Daddy might sound like this:
Me: Oi ei ooh ga ga
Them: Is it time for your nappy change, Sweetheart?
Me: Oooh henga ham ei oi eh eh
Them: Milk, you want milk, Baby?
Me: Aah goo ga humma Mom
Them: Poor Babes, isn’t Panda playing with you?
But it’s just a cover for those deep meaningful discussions of ours' that could attract the wrong kind of attention (you know the kind I mean, the ‘Oxbridge Scouting Committee for Prodigal Babies’ and that sort of thing).
In reality, our conversations go like this:
Me: So, you say that Stonehenge was a centre for healing but I still feel the temple theory has more credibility.
Them: Recent research would suggest, however, that the ailing travelled to Stonehenge from all over Europe including the ‘Amesbury Archer’ from Switzerland.
Me: Ah, but haven’t the very ill always congregated at places of worship in the hope of a miracle cure?
etc...

People are always telling Mommy and Daddy that I will be speaking in no time. I never bother to correct them; I am already speaking, just not in their tongue. They get all excited when I say ‘Mom’, like the lady in the shop the other day, because I’m not five months yet, but I’ve been saying that for simply aaages. Obviously, I will have to learn Big People Speak fairly quickly so complete strangers stop prattling on at me in some made-up language they think I’ll understand!

Strange things are also happening to my hair. Most of my abundant dark pelt of newborn hair is now gone and just as I was getting used to the super-shiny Bruce Willis look, Mommy’s noticed a few new sprigs coming through. Daddy’s keeping his fingers crossed that my new hair does not turn ginger!

Right-O! I am hungry again and must go. What’s your bet my next development update is all about the wonders of baby rice?!!

Syonix in Gaul

2008-09-15T13:47:00.016+01:00

In the little village of Villepot in faraway Gaul, Syonix and his tribe rented a hut (a very large hut with a pool, more often called a villa) for a week’s holiday. With him were Obelix, Cacofonix, Vitalstatistix…..

Well, no, actually, it was Daddy, Mommy, Grandad, Grandma, Uncle David, Aunty Louise and Cousin Eleanor who went to France with me. Our luggage did not contain a single winged helmet, harp, obelisk, or vial of invincibility potion but Daddy could have easily passed for Getafix the Druid with all the mistletoe-spotting he did on holiday!

It was a week of many firsts for me- my first holiday, first trip abroad, first ferry ride and first swim (the last two, fortunately, not related)! Our first day there was nice and warm so I got into my very first pair of swimming trunks (blue, rather than the red Mommy liked, to avoid the inevitable comparisons with David Hasselhoff), and jumped into the invitingly turquoise (Mommy says descriptions are a must in travelogues) pool in a floating thingie, with Daddy. I didn’t stay long; the water turned out to be absolutely freezing and I retired to the warmth of Mommy’s arms at the poolside very quickly. Mommy had earlier, very wisely, decided against going in, after the toe she dipped into the water turned blue! I shall throw my rubber duckies in before me the next time I try swimming; if they stay their usual pokerfaced selves, I’ll know it’s OK to go in!

We also spent a lovely day nosing about the market in Chateaubriant and returned to the villa weighed down with Gallic delicacies, which I got to taste too, in a roundabout way! The one mystery remained the contents of Doner’s dad’s market stall (‘Doner Kebap’ said the sign on the shack) which drew great numbers from amongst the market-goers. Mommy was very tickled when I asked her about this, but all I got by way of explanation was something about the same dish having slightly different names around the world!

All in all, a week full of new experiences for me; I have yet another and a very special first coming up at the end of September when I meet my Dida for the first time!

Mamma Mia!

2008-09-01T15:01:00.057+01:00

Last Saturday was Mommy’s 21st birthday (that’s what Daddy advised me to write). We had weekend-long celebrations planned and what a weekend it was!

It started on Friday when I went to see the local doctor about my TB vaccination scab which wasn’t looking so good. The doctor said it had got infected and put me on antibiotics. That evening Mommy went out with some mummies (not the bandaged kind) from our street; this gave me and Daddy the opportunity to wrap her birthday gifts. I got Mommy a book of nursery rhymes with lots of pretty pictures; this was a really clever gift because I get to enjoy it too when Mommy reads it out! Daddy's obviously nowhere near as clever as he got Mommy her favourite historical novels and rom com DVD’s which aren’t his thing at all. On Saturday night, Daddy cooked us a delicious meal (it was for Mommy really, I had to settle for the liquid option, followed by a nasty shot of antibiotics). Then, on Sunday evening, we all went out for dinner, and that's when things got really exciting…

Just as Mommy and Daddy were tucking into Dessert, I felt a wee bit poorly and puked...and puked again. Mommy and Daddy took me home but I kept throwing up and became very drowsy and lethargic. They were quite worried, especially as I was on medication, so Mommy called the helpline and they sent a tall, friendly man dressed in green. I thought he might be the Jolly Green Giant, but he didn’t bring us any canned peas or sweet corn, so, maybe not (Daddy told me later he was a paratrooper - or something beginning with ‘para’ anyway)!

The big green man conducted some tests on me that showed I was okay; but as I was still unusually sleepy and ‘lagbage’ (Daddy’s favourite Bengali word), he was a bit concerned and thought the excitement of a ride in an ambulance with an oxygen mask on would wake me up. This might have worked but the ambulance set off without Daddy who had to chase after me and Mommy in his car, they then forgot to take us home and dropped us off at a place called A&E instead (dunno what they were up to - I guess it's not easy being green)!

I'm still not sure what A&E stands for, but it has to do with waiting, as we all waited a very long time. Fortunately, one of the other people waiting turned out to be a Paediatrician who said I'd fallen ill because of the medicine the local doctor had given me. I am pleased to say that now that I have stopped taking it, I am back to my usual self again… HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!
Note:This picture was taken seconds before I started throwing up, so if I don't look my usual dashing self, you know why!