Week 1

What she learnt:

1. To suckle
2. To have food without throwing up
3. What a  bath and massage feel like
4. What the baansuri (bamboo flute) sounds like
5. What sunlight looks and feels like
6. How to cry like a banshee and get everybody's attention
7. Dad's arms are the safest and most comfortable place in the world

What I learnt:

1. Infants are born with more than a dozen genetically programmed reflexes
2. The amount of physical trauma and damage that mothers undergo during and after childbirth is simply heart breaking
3. Infants might look extremely delicate and fragile, but are tough cookies
4. What dogged, single minded, relentless focus on a goal (food) looks like
5. Everything I've done till date was a cake walk
6. Sleep is a thing of the past
7. Soiled, smelly nappies, and cleaning them isn't as deadly as I thought it would be. (Achievement unlocked) !   

P.S: A big Thank you to The Status message girl for giving Aarvi her first song (I hope you dance) and to The Sadist for reminding me what parenthood is supposed to be and to Aarjav for giving me the best practical advice on how to get through this period. 

Beckett

Blog, meet Beckett.

 

 

Of course, that's not her real name! It stays till we find a real one for her.

 

So I will tell you all about how Beckett came to be, as soon as I have the time. But it should suffice to know that Beckett is the most beautiful girl I've seen in my life or 've allowed to poop in my lap.

 

She loves her Dad and stops crying when she's with him. She gazes into his dark brown eyes with her pitch black ones and sometimes grants him a smile or two.

 

This is Day 1. 

 

Possimpible

Growing up, I never visualized myself ever becoming a father. I always dreamed of finding a beautiful woman and spending the rest of my life with her. And that was it. Like the fairy tales, my thing ended at the Happily Ever After. I could never imagine growing up.

The process of becoming a father is changing this. I now worry about someone other than myself. I now wonder what the best school will be, or if home schooling may be a better option (I've always thought that school is a colossal waste of time and potential). I now think of what books I should be reading out to the kid and when is a good time to introduce him / her to Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. I now think of which musical instrument will he or she want to play and what sport will be best for him or her. I now think of what should be on the playlist and what cartoons will he or she love watching.

I can now imagine my child holding my finger while learning to navigate this big bad world, I can see him or her clinging on to my leg when scared, I can see him or her giving me a warm hug on graduation day, and I can see him or her crying inconsolably at my pyre.

The thing about bringing a child in this world is that one is creating possibilities; possibilities that one never thought existed; both for the child and for those raising that child. While I shape the future of my child, try my best to equip him or her in his or her pursuit of happiness and purpose, the child will do the same for me.

I can't wait for my baby to be here. He / she has an amazing set of people waiting to take care of him / her. The Possimpible is waiting to happen.

Wait, where did that grey hair come from? This is f***ing not happening to me!  

Missing Missus

I miss Missus. It is probably because I'm not the one dealing with her swollen feet and mood swings and unreasonable cravings. 

I just like having her around. Like when she calls me in to sleep when I'm engrossed in watching crappy news channels on TV. Or when she asks me what I want to eat and I'm in the middle of my 20th push up. Or when I'm in deep thought writing some really poignant stuff and she goes, 'Honey, you should not let the baby become fussy about food the way you are. The baby should be disciplined like me.'

It is true that distance makes the heart grow fonder. But forced solitude also confuses the brain. 

So very often, while missing Missus, I find myself missing many other things. Like my father, who died more than 20 years ago. Like the once close friend who hasn't spoken to me (and vice versa) in 3 years (We fulfill our obligations of silence with unmatched fealty). Like the Summer and Diwali vacations the last of which I saw 6 years ago. Like living in my own home, something that I've not done in the last 3 years. All these things still keep popping in my mind from time to time dropping by in my dreams (nightmares) occasionally. They shake me to the core and then wake me up. 

And then I go back to missing Missus; awaiting the drive back home when I talk a full 23 minutes with her on the phone (I use the blue tooth of the car) and find peace and comfort in her seeming inanities and sweet nothings. 

Missing Missus has become my favourite past time. Devoid of the ferocity of wallowing, it is a sweet little wound that I enjoy licking just enough that it does not fester, nor heals.