100 Not Out

I was planning this blog entry to commemorate the 100^th hit on my baby blog. The celebration has been somewhat dampened, however, by my critics who have suggested that Mommy helps me with my blog. Well, I can confirm that they are....CORRECT! Yes, I must confess, embarrassing as it is for a grown-up baby like me to admit, I need my Mommy to lift me onto the chair by the computer. I had hoped to be able to do that on my own by now, but it appears I take after Daddy who was a 'late developer' (according to Mommy). All journalistic input is entirely my own, however. And to prove that, I have attached a short video of me writing this post for all the Doubting Thomases out there. On a happier note, on this occasion of my centennial hit, I would like to thank all my fans who read my blog. I especially enjoy your encouraging comments. Special thanks must go to Mashi who unfailingly comments on every piece, spurring me on to greater things (a toddler tome in the near future, perhaps). And so, to everyone who came, saw, and returned for more, please carry on Syon-ing in (he he)!

What's in a Name?

A lot of people have commented on the uniqueness of my name (in the UK). Many have said how lovely it is. Mommy and Daddy are very pleased with that because they looked high and low to find a name that both represented my dual heritage and also meant something good. Syon means 'twilight' in Sanskrit and 'gift of God' in Gaelic. As twilight or dusk is the merging of day into night, creating a beautiful time of day, it perfectly represents the coming together of my parents' different backgrounds in me. It's important to say it right though, otherwise the meaning changes, as with all Sanskrit names. You can call me 'Sigh-un' or in the original Bengali way, 'Shy-un', but it should always rhyme with lion. The best way to remember how to pronounce it is to think Bob Marley (Lion in Zion), and then watch my face light up in recognition (as in this picture) because I'll know you're talking to me!

Mirror, Mirror...

No, I don't want to know who's the fairest, that's strictly for evil queens in fairy tales, but I would love to find out who you think I look like most- Mommy, Daddy or any of the other options on the little poll I've set up (on the right). Comparisons with George Clooney have indeed been made, I'll have you know (and not just by Mommy), but parallels have also been drawn with Mr Greedy from Mr Men (ouch, a growing lad's gotta eat)! The speculation started as soon as I was born. First, I looked like Mommy and now I'm told I look like Daddy. Grandma thinks I look like Dadu, and Mommy sees similarities with Mashi, and so on. So, I thought now was a good time to settle the matter once and for all with a public poll. After all, I'm quite grown up now at three and a half months and won't be changing loads more, will I?! So, please do vote and if you don't think I resemble anyone on the list (though how can you not when George Clooney is an option), then please comment on who you think I look like.

Sherpa Syon

Yesterday, Mommy, Daddy and I climbed to the Everest Basecamp in the Himalayas. Though all of my gang wanted to come along, only Kicky the Kung-Fu Tiger was allowed, to protect us from the Abominable Snowman with whom he has grappled in the past and won (so he says)! We did this after Daddy came home from work. We packed quickly and off we went. Mommy packed her case and mine with warm clothing. I clearly remember her telling Daddy to pack his woollen socks but Daddy forgot (Mommy insisted I make this clear). Which is why, as you can see in this picture Mommy's taken of Daddy, Kicky and me in our tent in the mountains, Daddy has no socks. And because Daddy had no socks to protect his feet from frostbite, we couldn't climb to the top although we had been making great progress. We didn't see the Yeti either though I do believe Kicky could've wiped the glaciers with him. Easy. He is a battle-hardened Himalayan Tiger after all. Anyway, we came back home before midnight because it was way past my bedtime. Daddy went back to work today but not before promising me another shot at Everest when we've got our socks in order!
Click here for a better view of me in my tent

A Literary Triumph!

Once in a rare while, you come across a book that is a real page turner, one that you want to dip into again and again. 'Bouncy Lamb' is one such book. Since Daddy brought it home for me, I have read it 37 times, and each time discovered a fresh nuance or a startling new fact I had missed before. For example, did you know that dogs like bones? This is obliquely referred to on page three; it's not in-your-face, the author doesn't overemphasise it, but it does make you look at dogs with new eyes.

Furthermore, the writer, Mr. Ladybird, has an elegant way of expressing himself that instantly appeals. There is music in lines like the one about the Cuddly Cat - 'Rub her tum' (goes tum-ti-tump-ti-dum in your head, you see).

The character development is superb. By the end of the book, Curly Snail and Softy Rabbit have become your friends, and you don't hesitate to feel Snail's shell or touch Softy's tail. You identify with the whole cast of characters in a way that a lesser book could never have got you to do. You have no trouble believing that they are every bit as cuddly as you!

All in all, a touching book with vivid characterisation and a great deal of local colour (the barnyard truly comes alive) which I wholeheartedly recommend to all babies.

It has been a rewarding experience too - a great read washed down with lots of milk - my idea of heaven! And in critiquing it, I may have found a vocation...

Syon the Lionheart, Pirate's Son

At my sixth week health review, our local doctor listened to my heart and thought he heard it go lub-dub-whoosh,lub-dub-whoosh rather than lub-dub, lub-dub, which, he said was not the best thing it could do. So, yesterday, Mommy, Daddy, Grandad and Grandma took me to see a Baby Heart Doctor (a doctor who checks babies' hearts, not a Cardiologist of my age, you understand). He also had a listen and said he heard a strong lub-dub, lub-dub. He was so pleased with this, he gave me a clean bill of health (I think this must be the crisp pink slip Mommy tucked into my change bag). He said I didn't have to go back to see him (good, 'cos I've slept in a lot of hospital waiting rooms now and this one isn't my favourite). The most interesting part of the day was when Daddy turned up with a patch over his eye after seeing another doctor at the hospital. Mommy said he looked rakish. But I don't think Daddy went to see a doctor at all, after all, I didn't get an eye patch from my doctor, did I?! I think Daddy must have joined a band of buccaneers and I'm raring to go on swashbuckling adventures with him!