The Naughty Boys!

Every morning, once my husband and elder son leave, I play with my ten month old, enjoy the baby smell that I get every time I cuddle him, tickle him to hear his cute giggle and see him smile, revealing his four tiny teeth from between his tiny pink lips. I just love the way it feels to hold him, press my cheek against his, kiss him on the chin, rub my nose behind his ear and converse in babbles. I can feel my heart overflowing with love, warmth and happiness every time he laughs reducing his twinkling eyes to slits.

These moments make me wish that they never grow up so I can hug and kiss my boys whenever and as many times I want to. To endlessly watch them play, smile, giggle, laugh and hear them say words and sentences for the first time. However, there are plenty other moments when they drive me up the wall and I wish they would grow up by the next morning and leave me alone so I can enjoy my morning coffee and newspaper in peace, travel the world with limited luggage and once again have the luxury of time for myself.

My little one is at that stage when babies test gravity and he loves to drop things to watch them fall and make a sound. He tests to see which one makes the most sound and prefers those objects. He would drop one of his toys and expect me to pick it up so that he can do it again. I pick it up for him every single time just so I can watch him shut his eyes tight in anticipation of the crash just as he opens his grasp to let the toy fall. If I happen to catch it before it falls thus preventing the sound he opens his eyes and looks around as if questioning why there was no noise.

Yesterday, he was playing on our bed with his feeding bottle. Since he cannot open it I was comfortable with him holding it, hoping that would entice him to drink some milk a few minutes later. I was wrong. He managed to drop the bottle over the headboard, behind the bed. Since there is a tiny gap between the wall and the bed, I thought that I would fish it out of there. As I peeped behind I was surprised to not see the bottle there. I learnt yesterday that our bed touches the floor from all sides except that one which my baby chose. The bottle rolled under the bed and I had no way of retrieving it since the bed is too heavy for me to shift.

Later in the evening, while I was getting ready to leave for a toddler's birthday party my three year old managed to pull out our family photograph from one of the photo frames that adorns a cabinet in the dining area. Previously he had never shown any interest in them, but for no obvious reason he pulled it out tore it and flushed it down the toilet! I was a little annoyed with him since that was one of the few photographs we had of the four of us together with my elder one sitting still. It is unbelievably hard to get a picture of me with the three men I love since my elder one is too fast for the camera and gets captured as a hazy little ghost most of the times.

I questioned him why he tore and threw the picture. He in his sweet and innocent voice calmly replied, “Naya photo ayega” (new photo will come). That did not make any sense to me and I put the empty frame in a drawer. Soon after we were at the birthday party and the kids had a ball of a time playing and running around. It was an evening well spent watching our kids enjoying themselves. We had our picture clicked at the party and got it as a return gift. When we came home I did indeed have a new picture to replace the old one. I was reminded of what my son told me earlier in the evening and wondered if he has intuitive powers. At that moment my feeling angry at him felt so meaningless.

They are so tiny but they make me learn and discover new things everyday inside and around me. They make me see beauty in places I never imagined, to feel the kind of love, joys and anxiety I did not know existed. They teach me valuable lessons of patience and perseverance the most, which my parents and teachers would have tried to instil in me but may not have succeeded as much. My children are my best Gurus, they teach me every day.


(Printed in the January 2015 issue of the White Print Magazine)