There are so many things that Vir does in a day that make me shake my head in frustration (to put it mildly), but when he falls asleep at the end of the day, I look at him and can't help but feel a little guilty for being even a little bit mad at him for what he puts me through in the day. He doesn't know he makes me tired and worried running after him all day trying to keep him from hurting himself or from breaking things in the house. He doesn't know I worry about him not eating, and how that will affect his health. He doesn't know that I'm sometimes frustrated about having left my job so I could look after him better and spend time with him. He doesn't know I try to discipline him so he grows up into a well-behaved little kid who can adjust well into this world. He just wants to do his thing and not have me cramp his style (don't we all?) So, I just want to put on record (you know, in case God reads my blog), that I'm super thankful that I get to look into my healthy and happy child's eyes in the morning when he wakes up and gives me that smile that is only his and that in a million years, I wouldn't trade this for anything else.
Among all the things that he does that frustrate me are also all the things that I cherish the most...the little expressions and gestures and habits that will surely be replaced by new ones as he grows up but that we'll love to look back and smile upon when he's off to college or married with kids of his own (yikes, how old am I to be saying things like this!!!?). Like when he shakes his head in a come-on-you-know-you-have-to way and says "car...car...car...car" every morning, hoping that today is one of those days when he gets bundled in his car seat and taken to some mundane errand with his mom because what can be better than that. Or when he checks to see if his bottle of milk is leaking before he takes a sip by tilting it ever so carefully and then screams "Mamta...mamataaaaaa" to get her to fix it whether or not it's actually leaking. Or when he comes running up to me with his urgent song requests for the monkey song ("ooo-aaaa-ooo-aa") or the fishy song ("pish pish") or Old MacDonald's Farm ("eieieieie"). Of course, he never listens to any of these till the end because the next request takes over as soon as I start with the first one. Or when he suddenly needs to enquire about everyone's whereabouts and starts listing them out insisting I tell him what's going on with everyone. "Nana?" "He's in Dun." "Nani?" "She's in Dun." "Papa?" "He's in office." "Didi?" "She's sleeping. And so should you be." Then there's his endless fascination with Baggdu - especially all the sensitive parts of Baggdu that are just asking to be pulled by his tiny but surprisingly strong hands. He says he's just doing "paari" as he's petting the dog, but before you know it there's a tail being pulled or an eye being poked. Of course, he always apologizes to the dog by putting his hands on his ears and bending all the way to Baggdu's head solemnly.
Actually, as I'm typing, I'm beginning to see that this could take a really long time. And when I think I'm done, he'll wake up tomorrow morning and do something completely new that I'll need to add to my list. Something that I'll cherish just as much, no matter how much you hear me complaining. God, if you're reading, thank you and please ignore the whining!