Doing (IT) Without Diapers: a grandpa’s perspective

I don’t think my mother lost a wink of sleep over my getting it right, nearly seven decades ago. In a joint family set-up, where we had cousins and nephews growing up together, it was a peer group thing, done at the backyard of our farm house. We took it as extension of playtime activity, and took our own time doing it, till one of the woman in the household found time to pull us out to give us all a wash. Diaper culture was then unknown in my native Pollachi, Tamilnadu.

In my son’s case my wife did not see it as a big deal either, though he didn’t have the benefit of a peer group to learn from. Left largely to fend for himself, with a little help from friendly neighbours, our son picked it up through trial and error. Parental guidance was minimal; and mom intervened, with a threat or spanking, occasionally, only when she found you in soiled shorts.

As our son grew up to be a teenager we moved to Chennai; and our second-floor apartment in Egmore had a view of Don Bosco’s  kindergarten section. And we were used to the sight of pre-school kids with soiled behinds, waiting for the ayah to clean them up.

Now his son Siddarth goes to play-school at San Ramon, CA; and he has had parents worried over his apparent reluctance, nay, refusal, to give up diapers. This can be embarrassing, particularly if most others in his play-school were potty-trained. Siddarth is two plus, talkative, and even daring in a childlike way.

What cramped his style was the suggestion that it was time he switched diapers for ‘Spiderman’ underwear. He would have nothing of it; and after much cajoling and coercion Siddarth relented, insofar as he agreed to swap diapers for more fashionable underwear. Doing without diapers was one thing, but doing it without diaper was quite another can of beans. And, here was the sticking point. Siddarth would rather hold it, rather than do it in anything other than a diaper. Using potty was simply no, no.

Getting Siddarth out of his potty-block called for some collective thinking in the family; and a plan of action was drawn up for the Memorial Day weekend in May-end. Everyone in the house – mom, dad and the grandparents – cancelled all other plans to join the ‘SpotForce’ (Siddarth potty-training task force).

During the three-day weekend Siddarth was put off-diapers; and we took turns to watch for signs in his facial expression or body language so that he could be rushed to a potty, strategically placed in the house – one in the hallway and the other, in his upstairs bed-room. At the slightest hint of anything happening we gathered around the potty with expectations, like cheering fans on the stands, watching a goal-mouth tackle in a game of hockey.

Amid several such false alarms that had us rushing to the potty during the much of the long weekend, the breakthrough came, late Saturday evening. Irony was that when Siddarth took his first shot at breaking the potty-barrier none of us, other than his dad, was there to witness the event. He got his favorite toy car as a reward. In accordance with the plan, with every successful strike at the potty Siddarth got a gift from a special basket of toys. And by the end of the Memorial Day the basket was nearly empty; and mom Meera was proud of having her Mission Accomplished.

Related post – Who’s turn is it to change diapers.

Of the gun factor and Seshan Effect

I have known Dr. Javeed Nayeem as a social activist, student of Mysore’s folk-history, book-lover, coffee-planter, Star of Mysore columnist, a Haji and, of course, as a reputed cardiologist. His latest column however shows him up as a gun-lobbist. I wouldn’t associate him, though, with die-hard crusaders of US gun lobby. Would suggest he read - Guns and Losses – by B S Prakash, India’s consul general in San Francisco.

Dr.Nayeem’s gun-talk stems from the poll time humiliation that a section of law-abiding citizens have to go through, for the ‘fault’ of owning licensed guns. They are required to deposit them at the local police station during the election process. This ’revolutionary’ measure was thought of by former chief election commissioner T N Seshan, a ‘sabre-rattler, given to theatrics’. These are Dr Nayeem’s words, not mine, though I wish they were.

The Seshan Effect continues to cast its shadow still; it has gone into the rulebook, as a pre-poll sanitising measure. What is worse, as Dr Nayeem puts it, “we have all shamelessly tolerated it without a whisper or a whimper” all this while. His point is:

1) The gun, especially a licensed one, has never played a role in any poll in Karnataka.
2) When all and sundry, ‘the bad and the ugly’, come to know that weapons owned by law-abiding residents are safely locked away in police stations during election time, they take it as an open invitation to ‘make hay as soon as the sun sets’ over the Chamundi Hills. Isolated bungalows, farm-houses and outlying residental layouts are particularly vulnerable.
3) The police can’t be everywhere; and during election time they tend to be ‘nowhere’, presumably, under pressure of campaign bandobast.
4) Gun licences come at a hefty price; and a handgun, says Dr Nayeem, is literally worth its weight in gold. He reckons that police stations are certainly not the place where licensed weapons should be tossed around. Priceless ones are known to have been ‘misplaced, replaced, or even lost while in police custody’.

He would like to see public opinion moblised to persuade the three wisemen in the election office to see reason. And towards this end, columinist Nayeem is prepared to go beyond his ‘Over a Cup of Evening Tea’ column in Star of Mysore . He invites you to a cuppa of the real stuff, this Sunday evening at King’s Kourt.
Mail (or nail) him on this at kjnmysore@gmail.com or call 9880179722