[From around this time, last year]
Q. Which silly goose toots so loudly that he startles himself awake?
A. My silly goose.
And, just like that, we graduate from Newborn to Infant and bid adieu to the Fourth Trimester. I can’t take it, this time whizzing by faster than light. It’s breaking my heart. Slow down, let that baby scent linger!
Madness is being passed out on the recliner after a nonstop day of solo caregiving, missing him acutely as his Daddy puts him to bed.
#WhereIsOJAndWhoIsThisFreak #NeedOneMorePeek #BringBackMyBaby
‘Tis true, men with Parsi mothers are the yummiest creatures to walk the planet. Case in point:
1) Farhan Akhtar 2) Rahul Khanna 3) John Abraham 4) My son
(P.S. Rahul Khanna responded, saying his mother will be absolutely thrilled to hear this. Guess who was absolutely thrilled to hear from Rahul Khanna.)
Thursday is the new Tuesday: old
jungle saying blogger coming up with new rules.
Let’s just say Mummy is losing a million neurons for every tooth baby sprouts. Onto this week’s Truesday Tales, served up from last year.
In which Senor Baby tries to stuff a binky in Mummy’s mouth, since she realized it’s only Tuesday and needs pacifying.
In which Mummy informs Baby that Itsy Bitsy Spider probably had a touch of OCD, given his penchant for climbing the darn water spout on repeat mode.
In which we deconstruct Itsy Bitsy Spider and conclude that:
a. He is training for a Himalayan expedition
b. He has a touch of OCD
c. He runs a thieving arts academy
d. He is likely to develop identity confusion because Mummy calls him Itsy and Daddy thinks he’s Incy
e. He is not a California resident (hello, down came the rain??)
f. All of the above
g. This family needs help
#ThisBabyLife #TheMummyDiaries #WhatDoesYourTuesdayLookLike
Snippets from last February:
I have killer abs too. Anybody who sees them will die of shock.
In which I optimistically set an alarm 6 hours into the future.
#YeahRight #DreamOnFool #NoSleepNoDream #NeverMind
[P.S. Nothing has changed on this front a whole year later. It’s official: I’m a bot.]
Finally tossed my empty prenatal vitamin bottles today, after sentimentally holding on to them for the last few weeks. I had those tablets religiously for a whole year, through so many changes of body and circumstance.
It’s the end of an era.
[First shared in February 2015]
I stand over him, watching him sleep, gushing about the perfect curve of his cheek, loath to go to bed. Daddy is under the covers with his tablet already, rolling his eyes at Mummy for being this besotted. I ignore him and continue to gaze at Mr. Bean, soaking up every centimeter of his babyness.
Until, something occurs to me and I realize that the pater hasn’t been reading at all. He’s been admiring the 3000 pictures he clicks of our son each morning. While the fruit of his loins is 4 feet away.
But I’m the besotted one. Right.
Dear Dr. Martin Luther King,
I’d have a dream too–if I ever got some sleep!
A (still somewhat) new parent
Since Truesday Tales is a collection of snippets from the past year, (and the one above was written today,) here’s one from January 2015:
All this love that’s entered my life, I wish it didn’t come with handles attached. 😐
So it’s the second Tuesday of the new year (yes, already!) and I’m being a good girl and sharing a Truesday Tales snippet as promised in this post last week. If you’ve had similar experiences–or even very different ones, please share! And for those of you who haven’t been through the baby maelstrom, I promise it won’t all be about poo and pee. Only 98.479% of the time.
“Projectile peeing should be a bonafide sport at the Baby Olympics. Our son would be
reigning raining champion every time.”
~Me to the Boy
Seriously, the kid waters his own face with the accuracy of an archer.
Any other bebes with emission quirks out there? Adults NEED NOT apply. Thanks in advance.
HAPPY 2016! Here’s the new series I promised and hadn’t delivered on so far.
Like I mentioned in this post, I cheated on this blog last year with a very obscure social media platform that not many of you will have heard of. It rhymes with ‘Thace Puk’ and I got into the habit of sharing my exalted views on baby poo and such like with friends who couldn’t disown me if they tried. Starting with this post, I will share these snippets from the past year on ze blog every Tuesday (or Friday, which is basically the same thing in MummyLand) until I run out of posts (or steam or banana chips). Why Tuesday? Because:
a. It is the farthest day from Monday, and hence the happiest day of the week
b. I was born on a Tuesday, and hence it’s got to be the happiest day of the week
c. Tuesday = Thursday = DontKnowDontCareDay
d. All of the above
Feel free to bump me off your reader when the posts get poo much for you! Although you’d really get an education in color and texture if you stuck around. Wait! Come baaaaaack!
And then there’s the beaming 4 am smile, right after he’s refused to burp AND peed on you.
You know it’s probably an involuntary muscle at work, but who’s to tell your lurching heart that as you sit there, drenched in urine and marveling at how amazing your life is.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Parenting is the ultimate example of Stockholm Syndrome.