A whiff of pungent smell filled the air. Flora was at an all time high of her sound shenanigans, where she puts her tongue on top and let’s out a very minor cry out of her mouth, like I earlier said she is similar to her father, and has earned the title of “tiny buddhi” at a very tender age thanks to her solace with her herself, she stares intently at the ceiling in her pensive mode and lets out a smirk, a smile or even a half hearted angry brow to denote her hunger. Now all this observation was done when I sit ardently besides her to nest and nourish her. The moment I am not there, the above described sound shenanigans will atleast take half an hour to reach a crescendo, therefore you can imagine what a good child she is, she is really not a troublemaker at her age.
Now in all this the whiff of pungent smell in the air lost its purpose I suppose, so that pungent thing is nothing but yellowish, sticky liquid that comes out from her ass and has to be cleaned very carefully to avoid infections on the baby. Every mother and father dread this job like working for hours on the excel sheet filling order payments. Pressing our noses with tissue single handedly and then using Pampers wipes to wipe off her teeny tiny area to perfect hygiene was like a Herculean task achieved by Kris and me. I took three whole days to figure out her shit schedule and that too remained erratic till date, so the best thing to do was to focus on her expressions, the moment she lets out those minor cries and turns ” buddhi” is the moment of victory, you come to know she is peacefully letting out all the negativity and pessimism out of her body for her rejuvenated day ahead!
This is just one of the innumerable pretty tasks that I have got responsibility for. On the positive side I really want to give a huge round of applause to this infant of mine for being a predictable baby. From what I heard and read of the night woes, nappy changes, hulligan shrieks and not so pleasant odours around me, she has been a breath of fresh air. She signals with her black pearls to the sides she wants to sleep, her yawns are timed like a football match, she turns half way in sleep already to her left which is such a welcome sign of her long, svelte legs, getting ready for athletic chimes, her fingers move in a rhythmic fashion when she listens to acoustic guitar and smiles at all the notes, Gregorian Chants have been her favourite to go sleep music as she nests into a deep slumber unattended and affected from the worries of the world.
Three and half hours of slumber, half an hour to fill the stomach up to the brim of her small diaphragm, and then one hour to stare, observe, note, learn and give signals to her brain for processing faces and colours is what her busy schedule looks like and my full time momma job commences. Its my tête-à-tête with her alone that is going to preach me how to bring her up and know what goes on inside her diminutive brain that is sharp and quick to even recognise the difference between my left and right hand!
-Rucha Sudhir Khot