In the past few weeks, I have been surrounded by babies. In the midst of this current festival season, I had relatives coming over from around the world--with their babies and I realised how easy it was to fall in love with them. Human beings I didn’t know, couldn’t judge, and couldn’t get angry at. Even after one of them nearly broke my glasses, the other swallowed my pen drive, and the third (just a month old) couldn’t stop crying.
Strangely, I was introduced to that side of me that could close the laptop and take the two-year-old for a walk and could help my aunt feed her nine-month-old cranky son who wouldn’t stop beating us up with his flailing fists. I loved them. All three cranky humans who ruined my workweek.
What is it about children that make them so angelic along with all possible devilish traits? I don’t know. All I kept wondering was if this was how I felt being an aunt, how would I feel as a mom? Cleaning nappies of a one-month-old, running after a speed-crawling nine-month-old and dealing with a two-year-old who couldn’t stand the other two--it was a crash course for me! No regrets that I hardly worked and hardly did all I had otherwise planned.
And I loved every moment of it.
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