Fifteen years ago, in this serene month of June, and for my birthday I suppose, I was blessed with a baby daughter. Red in the face, cherubic and complaining loudly in the harsh lights of the nursing home she had pushed me into, she was placed swaddled in flannel on to a table near me, and I stared at her in total panic.
I was supposed to feel maternal hormones coursing through me naturally guiding me on what to do next.* But, the heck I didn't ! - the father of all this stress was standing around cheerfully taking photos of me just emerging from labor looking like a drowning -victim which didn't really help at all…. Where do I start? I wondered, in shock.
At the best of times I'm clumsy around kids but this was my responsibility entirely, or so I felt, and I was honestly clueless. Sure, there were famous books written on this sort of thing but this was a person and she would have opinions some day and I was the one who would be held somehow responsible for them. How could you do this from books? Its not rocket science- just a lot of nail biting scarier!…arrrk.
Well, I had creativity on my side. Plus a lot of opinionated but helpful in laws. Well-intentioned outlaws joined, the whole pack of them seemed to know stuff that I didn't. Annoying to say the least!
First I took a small exercise book in which to chronologically enter all the serious and relevant developments in our lives. This I still have with me, and is full of entries like "Baby hasn't bogged for three days now. It may be the rusks" or "Baby only ate two bananas today" Deciding moments around which my entire life revolved in these years of being a serious mother.
Foot prints, which look like they belong to some small rhesus monkey… Teeth graphics with dates for when they fell out and then when they grudgingly re-appeared. ..A list of vaccinations each with a story behind the dates, of pain and misery (on my part of course since she can't remember being vaccinated but I can vividly feel the gritted teeth and the tears - mine- when her soft defence-less backside was being assaulted by mean nurses with long needles…)
Milestones are faithfully recorded here, like when she first smiled, first said mama, and ate her first flying ant, wings and all (kids here just have to do that, - this is Sri Lanka and there's a lot of interesting fauna crawling about with them, no matter how much you sweep; on white tiles I guess they look really delectable like mobile marzipan…)
My self-esteem began eventually to depend entirely on getting this strongly resisting little creature to eat, bag or burp at a generally acceptable frequency, and I honestly found this all a serious challenge.
She for her part seemed to be designed entirely to continuously thwart any plan I had at all, to make her eat properly of the correct food groups, defecate with the required frequency or say suitably nice acceptable things in front of our visitors.
So it became a recurrent battle between a life form 4 or 5 kilos in weight (which was very slowly and resistingly increasing) and one 5 foot 7 in height (which was rapidly aging) and of course the former kept winning….
Life went , from Montessori to school from Sunday school to tuition class, to extra stuff and back, growing , learning,crying laughing and dancing. Happy at the end of the day I do hope, as we have tried our best to make her so. Her sibling will be , we trust , a lifelong supporter , someone to fight and make up with, someone to defend and watch out for her, and she in her turn will continue to bring that sunshine that only a daughter can bring.
My, how she has grown and not just the height- suddenly there's a lovely individual personality, bright, caring ,sensitive and with a wonderful quiet sense of humor!
Amazingly, it seems, the little two foot long bundle that was sleeping on a small plastic square on our bed, is now taller than I am. …Which is good because she can get me that baby book from where I kept it on the cupboard and we can sit and giggle about what's written in it.
………………………………………………………………………….
Quotable quotes :
"Mummy - always wash your hands after you touch him"
(Baby N five years later, on being presented with a small, strange smelling sibling- applying the same theory used for stray kittens and pet rodents)
Mom , will the ants all come out printed ?
Thoughtful observation of a series of household black ants who were walking aimlessly around on copy paper we have just placed on the Print in tray
"You figured that out only today, is it?" Sounding calm after a bomb exploded near her school and I called her up, palpitating, to tell her Sri Lanka was a horrible dangerous country and we should get out if we can.
"Ma, what was that set of words again? I need to build up my vocabulary!"
After I had just mistakenly let rip a dubious string of rude words I had picked up from my more depraved office buddies
"Meka yakage aanduwak,neh ! Moong okkoma ekai! " Critically judging the entire male gender after misinterpreting Enrique's song which goes "I love to see you cry"
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………*lactate, or something uncomplicated like that.
** hell of a system, no! these jokers are all the same!
Message from the author (ie mom): I love you, my baby girl! Have a wonderful year and be blessed always!
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