The Fall, the Haze and all the drama of Summer...

Yesterday marked the end of one month of our very first summer vacation. 

And we heralded it with a panic stricken, drama filled visit to the A&E at KK Hospital! 

Before the 8 week long summer vacations began, everyone including my husband asked me to get the boys enrolled into summer school. 

And I steadfastly refused. 

To a novice like me, who had never experienced a single summer vacation as a parent, and who till December, sent her kids to a full day play school for almost 350 days of the year; the concept of packing the kids off to school during summer holidays seemed so very unfair. Ofcourse it gave them an edge over other kids and kept them occupied with a thousand and one things to do and most importantly, kept them out of your hair but somehow it seemed so cold blooded and practical compared to the aimless, magical summer holidays we had growing up. 

Those days when we romped around in the garden with nothing to do, made up our own games, read books and played with friends. Where the one trip you looked forward to was the visit to the grandparents; when your doting Dadu (grandpa) pampered you with hot samosas and jalebis every day and where Didu (grandma) cooked all your favourite food and told you stories from the Ramayan and the Mahabharat while you sat with her under the stars, on the charpoy in the courtyard each night; and where you returned the favour by driving her around the bend by polishing off her year's stock of pickles while she enjoyed her afternoon siesta. 

To me that was what summer stood for; a time that was all about unplanned, purposeless drifting; roaming around with friends, watching flowers, catching dragon flies, making chilli lemonade and maxing out your library borrowing limit.
And I wanted my sons to experience that aimlessness. 

And then the summer vacations started.

The first day of the vacations, V1 fell off a tree, cut his lips and teeth and almost made it to A&E.

The fourth day, he picked up a fishing tackle someone thoughtlessly left lying by the riverside and cut his hand with the sharp metal hooks. I had to rush him to the dr to check if he needed tetanus shots.
All this in the very first week.
When the doctor visits were not happening, there was the waking up each morning, racking my brains as to how to keep them occupied. And then there were countless fights to be broken up, disputes to be settled and many moments where I had to be around to be given a lecture by two opinionated boys on "Let me show you what I don't like".

After only 7 seemingly endless days, the concept of letting the kids indulge in aimless wandering around during summer vacations had become one of those ideas that seem great as a concept but are pathetic when executed in real life. By Day 7, I was already firmly in a "What were you thinking?" zone where the urge to kick myself kept getting stronger with each passing hour I spent with the boys. 

Then the haze happened.
The toxic smoke from the forest fires in Indonesia blew into Singapore and increased our pollutants standard index (PSI) to an all time record high of over 400 (to put things in perspective over 100 is unhealthy and anything over 300 is considered hazardous), grounding kids  indoors for almost a week. After the first day, my resolution to limit TV watching time, went out of the window and instead I began to see TV as my saviour delivering me from insanity! And with each passing day of being stuck indoors, my debt of gratitude to the makers of Chota Bheem and to my friends who brought the DVDs from India for V1 and V2, kept getting bigger and bigger.

But just as my spirits were reaching hazardous levels, the haze lifted and things came back to normal. 

The swimming pool became my best friend after I discovered leaving the boys in the kids pool for a few hours each day was the best way to get them tired and get to bed before bed time. When we were not in the pool, we went for long walks (and by long I mean 5-6kms long) walk by the riverside or we went to the library and read. We were settling into a routine and summer vacations didn't seem so bad after all. 

All tired and crashed out after a few hours in the swimming pool!
Peace reigns at last!

Just then the fall happened.
A perfectly planned Sunday came crashing down in a moment when V2's head hit the parquet floor. And the woman who was proud of never shedding tears, lost all control and bawled like a baby.

Well what happened was as follows -
The husband and the Mother had left in the morning for India.
The help was on her day off.
The boys and I had planned a trip to the library and then a lunch at our favourite restaurant, an afternoon siesta and an evening in the pool.
It was supposed to be a perfect day.

I got the boys ready and then switched on the TV to keep them quiet and ran to take a quick shower.
I must have been away less than 3 minutes when I heard loud crying. I ran out to discover V1 crying and screaming  "He hit me first" and V2 with his face all red, holding his head.

He had a giant bump protruding from the back of his head and when I touched the bump, my heart literally stopped. The bump felt soft and squishy. All I could think of was a broken skull and brain matter flowing out. I know it sounds dramatic and preposterous and everyone who heard it, from the ER doctor to my hubby, laughed when I said it, but at that point, my brain had stopped being rational. I was alone, with 2 crying kids, one of whom was possibly grievously injured; with twenty and one possibilities, each worse than the other running through my head. So thinking straight not on the top of the list I was doing.

I managed to hail a cab and rush to the ER, and then request the nurses to get someone to see V2 immediately. The wait in the ER that followed, seemed like the longest nightmare of my life. To be fair to the hospital authorities, they rushed us through every procedure. Yet, till we met the doctor for the last time with the X-ray reports, and until she gave us an all clear with a warning to watch V2 for the next 48hours, I was unable to breathe. Even after that, after we came back home, all I felt other than a bare semblance of relief, was nothing. I was just too exhausted to react or feel anything the entire evening.

I have run through what happened so many times in my head by now, looking at how I could have avoided the incident and all the lessons I learnt from it - like never to go for a shower leaving two boys alone with a remote or the number of the ambulance service in Singapore, the biggest discovery for me was the generosity of strangers and friends alike.

The biggest debt of gratitude I owe my friend C, who I called in a panic. She heard me screaming on the phone and said, "Wait, I am coming." Her husband and daughter took a tearful and terrified V1 off my hands so I could focus only on V2. And she was there, with me at the hospital, like a rock, every step of the way; assuring me everything was going to be okay. They had guests at home and Sunday plans, all of which got nixed by our misadventure. I have known C for almost 20yrs now, and we have seen each other through many good and bad times, but yesterday, more than ever, I was thankful to have her as my friend.

Then there was the lady we met occasionally by the river walking her dogs. When she saw me trying to hail a cab, she offered to drive me to the hospital. And my neighbour's help, who unmindful of her day off, stood with me on the road, hailing cabs and who offered to look after V1 while I was in the hospital.

And Vj who never once (I would have not been as generous if I were in his place) gave me a "I told you to ask the maid not to take leave today" speech and instead kept telling me it could have happened to anyone and to stop piling the blame on myself. And my two sisters, who kept calling and reminding me how tough V2 was and how everything was going to be all right.

The biggest revelations on generosity of spirit, however, have been my two boys -

First, poor V1 who was so traumatised by guilt, he kept asking C's daughter "if my brother is all right". And since then he has been (with some lapses here and there) on his best behaviour; he has endured taunts and smacks from his brother without even flinching, has been sharing his toys voluntarily and has even done the unthinkable - share his fruits which he never does!

Then there is the hero of the hour, V2, who surprised me the most of all. When we were in the cab enroute to the hospital, I started crying while talking to my sister. V2, who was on my lap and who has never seen me in tears, turned to me and said, "Why are you crying Mammy? Look, I am not dead yet. See? I can move my hands".
Unlike me, he also had enough sense to ask the ER doctor for a candy, and then an extra candy for his brother.
Finally when we came back home and plonked our exhausted selves on the sofa,  a very apologetic V1 turned to V2 and said, "I am sorry I hurt you V2", to which he magnanimously replied, "That's alright V1. I am okay now".
Never before had forgiveness seemed so graceful and innocent at the same time.

Signing off, I am not sure if we are on our way to achieving a summer of aimlessness, but we are definitely doing great on drama. Keep tuned; another month and we shall see if we survive this summer vacation, with their limbs and my sanity intact!