Wednesday, June 29
They thwack me every now and then like monster punches. A hearty chuckle, meaningless babble, squinty eye rolls, and strikes, although to no avail, at stiffening a wobbly neck, by my little angel – all these make me more mawkish than I already am, inflating my pride. Until the day my girl was born, I foolishly believed that my life’s greatest accomplishments comprised of such things as getting my first piece of work published, my first job, and turning entrepreneur. Of course, marrying my love was the list topper. But in retrospect, I know I was wrong. When my little angel came into my life, this list turned into a mere has-been, like flaccid broccoli in a day old salad. That’s not to say I am not proud of those feats as a part of me, but it’s only that I’m more fascinated by who I’ve become after my transition into momhood. I now watch her grow, and recall the first time I held her in my arms. She was asleep, and wore the most serene look I’d ever known a human to have. I sat admiring her little toes and fingers, furtively checking if they were all intact. Her tiny puckered lips, button nose, dainty eyelashes…everything seemed so magical, and I couldn’t stop beaming. Soon, her shrill wails filled the walls of the room and there I was – completely overwhelmed, and ready to take charge and mother her, just by plain instinct. Then came the harrowing times – sleepless nights were not exactly on my ostensibly perceptive mind, and I found myself hankering after respite all the while. I couldn’t quite resign myself to the fact that life had changed, and that everything had to revolve around this tiny creature that had taken our lives by storm. But today, things are different. I’m brimming with such ferocious motherly love that I know I can go nights, or days on end with no sleep at all. I can diaper her with my left hand, and doll her up with the right - at the same time, I can put her to sleep simply by breathing heavily (that must, surely, sound like a hushed sing-song to her), and unearth a tiny pink sock in a closet full of zip-sized gear, in a flash. My little angel exemplifies my happiest moments, and her innocent smile perks me up like sunshine on a gloomy day. Her sense of wonderment and curiosity stuns me, and through her I now want to learn about the world all over again. I can’t wait to hear her say “I love you, mommy,” and have her cover my face with butterfly kisses. When she clasps my hand and refuses to let go, I foresee the day when she’ll slip her jumpy, tiny hand into mine as we approach school. But for now, I’m only glad to have traded in my favorite pair of slim jeans and well-kempt hair in exchange for some very melodic gurgles. Yes, I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with a very tiny person, and she barely knows it yet. This is my life’s newest reality, and I’m loving every slice of it.
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