Sunday, February 22, 2009
Three Weeks and counting
No more pics until you speak to my agent.
So what have we learnt....some fun facts.
We held our breath (in horror) as Arhaan wriggled off the weighing scales, had I given birth to some horrible mutant? To be told by the health worker that babies are born with an instinct to wriggle and step –which they lose at some stage and have to learn all over again...major kabhee bhoola kabhee yaad kiya..actually if I had given birth with not a soul in sight and collapsed from the effort and blood loss-- nature has arranged for the baby to wriggle to my chest for nourishment (and the hormones released would contract my uterus, revive me and have me back on my feet). Impressive eh?
Of course being the crazy parents that we are...though none of us have mentioned it to the other.. but considering the Pathan genes in him (and his Gul Sher avatar) the dad does fear the baby wriggling to the knives drawer if the quality of the room service goes downhill ...so he has started treating the boy wonder with new founded respect and trying not to do anything to antagonize him.
My mom has confessed that she has been surprised by our 'parenting skills' especially mine ...I guess the rest of my family particularly the aunty brigade had serious misgivings how the Mommy Project would turn out...I think a lot goes to the bub's credit, he has been seriously low maintenance..It is not that I developed Earth Mother skills all of a sudden.
And I guess it made a lot of difference that I waited and waited some more before deciding to spread my gene pool...you have seen more of the world, realised what SERIOUS deprivation is about (rather than being just deprived of sleep) and what real life can demand of you, but then that is just me...I'm sure there are many incredible young women out there who have figured out life and their place in the world in their early twenties...for me I have been incredibly blessed that the Good Lord has given me a kid with good health and an incredibly sweet nature...and I'm content in the knowledge that all my baby needs to be pacified is to be fed, burped or have his diaper changed.. He is not putting me through the moral dilemma of bringing Shariah to the Greater Melbourne region before he stops crying, or submit a hundred word abstract of the significance and innovation of my breast feeding skills before I venture to feed him... to revise my budget before deciding what brand of pampers to use.
More later, I'm still teary eyed over the incredible journey of Slum Dog as it unfolds at the Oscars...