3:30 PM Naptime is on! There is so much to summarize ere baby D wakes up. I may not expatiate the chronicles, but first things first, I want you to know the transient struggle I have been going through to fit in blog maintenance to my new routine, hence the time lag between posts. *facepalm*
I’m down with fever and cough. There are enough challenges on my plate already, I wonder why God surprises me with another one. The constant cloudburts (Featured image from unsplash.com) which otherwise dazzle my state of mind is now perforating my skin with its mere drip drip symphony over my window panes. Baby D is infuriated with all the preventive measures I undertake to safeguard him against the infection my body is hosting. It is the no-hugs rule that bothers him the most, for which rebukes me with his babyish “I like the other adult better” looks.
Baby D metamorphoses into a helpless adult, the moment I let out a discreet cough in the wash basin. He screams aloud, totters straight to where I stand and displays a fused expression of sadness, sympathy, frustration and disbelief. Apparently, it’s the gasping sound that peeves him, I wonder how he would react to the same situation if he knew how to speak.
The lifesaver of the day (#LOTD, does it exist already?) award goes to none other than our digital nanny – this very semi-broken mobile phone which sponsored me some (much needed) me-time today at the expense of a virtual sack full of mom-guilt. Baby D and I have a common taste in music (not sure if I imposed on him) therefore we settled for Visiri to be played in loop until one of us (him) got bored to tears.
Rants aside, let reality be spotlighted for the time being. Parenting my rug rat all the while running a fever myself is so far the hardest thing I have ever done as a parent. But, it’s only when I transcribe these moments, I realise the brighter side of this phase.
The challenge is just the fever and that has nothing to do with the little one’s usual dependency on me; the child is concerned with the unusual acts of his primary caregiver (do you see my invisible crown?) which explains all his facial expressions when I was coughing my lungs out; The bond we share is adorably symbiotic. Although there are times we like to keep out of each other’s hair (for me, while using the laptop. For baby D, on climbing stairs or tasting the TV remote), not a day goes by without feeling grateful for this beautiful mess I have birthed. Mess, yeah, let’s not get started with that again. *eye balls rolled up*