Uff! The longest day is finally over (I believe). Dr.H has been running back and forth our home and his hospital for the past few days and looks more or less like a possessed person masked under the doctory outfits. The week ahead is also going to be equally hectic like the present one, so I asked one of my parents (read: Mom) to pitch in so that I escape frequent moments of lucidity in parenting. Guess who knocked the door this time? It isn’t mom, but my dad who has decided to co-parent baby D for the upcoming week. It’s just day 1 and all hell has broken loose already :D.
Having my dad and baby D in the same room is like nannying two children under one roof, where both would ruthlessly compete with each other to get on my nerves. Needless to say, my usual slapdash performance in the kitchen gets worse when dad shows up, as he requests (demands) his meals on time. He imposes a stringent military kinda regime onto his supposedly unimportant schedule and expects us (me) to go by the same when he visits us. His way of living is totally different from the YouTube-inflicted lifestyle my family follows and since I’m the one who acts as a bridge between these people of unrelated eras, the sacrilege of riling back at my utterly under-aged and gracefully over-aged babies would always seem like the most convenient way of bringing things under control, except that I won’t! Because angst never works on them.
I’ve never seen my dad spending quality time with kids in the past two decades of my life. He rarely interacted with baby D before he learnt to stand on his own. Though not often, there were times when I had felt bad about it. My FIL is an exact opposite of my dad – he has a natural affinity and empathy for kids. He easily gets along with baby D though our meetings are infrequent. My dad on the other hand, doesn’t even know to hold the baby right or make them giggle or coo.
Today, something unexpected happened. While I was busy in the kitchen dicing onions, I heard my dad crooning to baby D in the kindest voice that I’ve unheard of. My dad isn’t the play–peek-a-boo-and-tickle-tickle-laugh kinda grandparent you see as an example in books. So today’s transformation came as a surprise to me. No wonder why they say sixties transmogrify men into innocent children. Anyways, the house turned topsy-turvy and super noisy as the generation gap began to narrow down in a welcoming manner. I did get a migraine but the overall positive vibes made me survive the pain.
I bluntly utter que sera sera whenever one of them (which eventually provokes the other) tries to spoil the serene shebang of my household. They have their own problems – the adult kid has a persisting heart ailment and is on high-dose medication, while baby D has been suffering from seasonal cough for the past few days and is also on medication (a medium dose of orange flavored cough syrup) which sets him on occasional mood swings and drowsiness especially when I am around. You know what I mean. I can’t help but gush about how that makes me feel. Of course, I want him to recover soon, but all the extra attention and bear hugs he demands during his sickness makes me want to sacrifice every single pleasure of mine just to make him feel a little warmer in my arms. He is also getting along with his grandpa now which again is a rare sight to cherish.
The tenderness and extra efforts that emerge out of us when one (or more than one) of our family members fall sick glues us further and makes the relationship more meaningful. I never expected my dad to drop by this soon, when I called for support. Though his self-laid military schedule annoys me, I cannot disagree the sweet truth that I always look forward to spending time with him, even though it takes a great deal of patience and energy in return. Right now, all I asked for is this and I’m bestowed with the same in no time.
I have a firm belief that someone would always pop up out of nowhere to help me when I am in distress, not necessarily a family member like I have for today, but a friend or a friend of friend or sometimes even the mom of a friend, which is such a blessing, I’d say. My thirties are not far away but my forties are definitely in a decent distance from where I stand, however I already feel like I’m on a mid-life crisis with too much to worry about. The graph of problems grow only higher and higher with time, we lose people, we gain people, we cry, we try, we fail, sometimes with a great push from within we stand up, only to miserably fail again. But then there are better days too to keep our hopes alive and up. So is the parenting journey. Most of the days test our patience and strength to the core, but there are easier days too. The key is to just keep swimming and eventually enjoy the fun part that comes with it.
I always tell myself this, “Experiencing the toughest days are necessary because only with hardships, one can taste the real sweetness of better days in life”. The quote is too philosophical but it is so soothing to read and is worth etching in heart, if the journey you undertake towards a bigger goal poses more hurdles and disappointments every now and then. I’m grateful for every subtle blessing I receive from people around, their mere presence itself means a lot to me and does the necessary soul-healing I pray for.
Did you count your blessings today?
What are you thankful for?
Who made you feel better today?
Share with me, a piece of your heart. I’m all ears! 🙂