An endless cycle
Wow Dinga came into our lives five weeks ago and from the moment we saw him our lives changed forever.
To start with we changed into grandparents and suddenly had to don the Mantle of Maturity. We had to become fonts of wisdom and knowledge of why kids cry or why they don’t cry. We had to activate our dormant reflexes of dandling babies, rocking them to sleep and rediscover the joys of conversing in the third person and delivering messages via the baby. As for me, particularly, I re-learnt the art of singing out messages and keeping the baby quiet with mindless chatter. For, as the decidedly older than me pediatrician told me rather sternly looking me straight in the eye, when I accompanied Anna Shetty to the clinic for Wow Dinga’s first immunisation, “Mom, babies don’t know any better. For them they still think they are in the womb. They don’t know what is day and what is night.”
Believe me nor do the parents or the grandparents.
Miraculously that little bundle of joy changes who you coo over in the hospital turns into a something that generates constant activity galvanising the care givers into an endless cycle of eat, pee, poo, eat , pee, poo interspersed with periods of sleep – deep contented slumber or fitful cat naps. Occasionally this is varied with periods of calm (Hallelujah!) or periods of screaming , red in your face screaming, squirming and wiggling ( O God please help me!!!) for absolutely no reason at all.
Yesterday, was one of those days when all we seemed to do was burp and nappy change from day break to nightfall and shush the baby into silence when he wasn’t peeing, pooing or eating. When we used up the last dry nappy he fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
And surprisingly, the very second he closed his eyes and yawned and stretched and nodded off , we couldn’t help but ooh and aah, miraculously forgetting those harrowed moments when we were as frustrated, bewildered and helpless as he was.