Bobo was invited for two
birthday parties last weekend.
I was quite kicked.
If someone asked me about my
plans, I could finally complain ‘you know. Need to chaperone my son from one
party to the next’.
I had heard this excuse for
years and years all the while gritting my teeth. Somehow parents who said it
thought they were superior creatures (though of course, they were just boring).
It was nice to test out the chance for being superior.
In the end, I had to cut
short a lunch we were having with my friends in order for Bobo to make it the
party.
I did not feel superior when
I excused myself. Just boring.
The party itself was good
fun though. Bobo’s new found love for other kids means he is thrilled to be
amongst them even if he just ignores them. The venue was also a play area, with
plenty of toys all of which Bobo proceeded to test out one by one. He pushed
cars into walls. He chewed the fake ice cream cones in the mini-kichenette. He
went through mini-tunnels suited for human beings of 4 feet and below. I
followed him, bent over and feeling like Goliath.
Yesterday, I accompanied
Bobo to another party. This one was in a plain and simple function room without
childproofing or toys. D was not with me. That left me as the sole adult responsible
for Bobo and I realised that it can be quite a strain.
Bobo likes to practice his
walking at every opportunity and even as I kept a hawk-like eye on him, he ran
to the nearest coffee table and shook it. A plate of chips on it sprayed the
floor. I rushed over, noticed the birthday boy’s mother rushing over and I apologized
while bending over to pick up the chips. The bboy’s mother held onto Bobo and
cooed to him ‘oh, you are allowed to eat chips is it?”
“No. He is not” I stood up
immediately knocking a couple of more chips. Not that I cared any more.
There was Bobo thoughtfully masticating
a chip.
Ever since Bobo started
solids we have been avoiding salt in his food. Baring things like idli and
bread, we have taken the effort to cook small portions for him separately
without salt. This is based on a new-fangled theory about sodium not being good
for below one year olds.
We moved on and his friend A
made an appearance. A is a sweet and thin 2.5 year old girl who is quite fond
of Bobo. She beamed at him, proceeded to lift him and give him a hug and then
unable to carry dropped him on the floor. Bobo crashed down spectacularly face
forward as I watched. Luckily with A being tiny herself, it was not a worrisome
height to fall from. In a while, the parties involved had been calmed and ‘hi-fi’s
given.
So far I had let my kid make
a mess, not stopped him from getting hurt and not had a single conversation
with an adult that I did not know or lasted more than two minutes.
I wanted some food and
conversation.
Tucking Bobo firmly under my
arm, I hand him a piece of a cheese sandwich and loaded my plate with some
chocolate cake. The host then introduced me to one of the guests, a professor.
I began to chat about the relative merits of professoring in the U.S. and
Singapore while chomping away.
Ah. This was more like it.
Then a tiny hand came into
my range of vision, dipped its hand into the cream on the cake in my plate and
disappeared. I looked towards Bobo to note his face smeared with cream.
So, the whole avoid-salt
exercise mentioned earlier? Included a no-sugar subcomponent too.
We were planning to
introduce both salt and sugar once he turned one.
But apparently Bobo had
decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally.
I guess what is a birthday
party without cake and chips? With that, I ate more cake, wiped the remaining
cake from Bobo’s hands and decided it was time to make a quick exit.