You can tell women who don't think much about the joys of mother hood. They don't fascinate over pregnant women, they hold babies at a respectable distance and try to talk to them like adults (and then wonder why they are not getting a response), they don't understand diapers and sometimes eat the baby's food. AND have a healthy and shameless fear of anyone under 4 feet.
I was that woman until 1 year, 5 months and 21 days ago, to the date, my brother thrust into our lives a small bundle of joy and then some (grasshopper!). He is definitely a bundle of laughs and we celebrate every new achievement like he just reinvented the wheel. Like yesterday, he climbed the stairs all by himself and we discussed it for 45 good minutes. Picture 5 grown individuals standing around the staircase talking and clapping to a 2 feet tall child. Embarrassing. But we were so proud.
So, anyway, after a rather busy Sato running around town, I came home to find grasshopper by himself (ok! my mother was doing something or other and my father was napping on the couch)There began the true test of my maternal instincts and clearly I was not ready for the challenge. It was cute when he reached for my hand the minute I walked in and had to go with him to my room so that I could change. What was not so cute was when he followed me to the bathroom to watch me change.
We watched a bit of TV while he went ahead to destroy and re-arrange my room. Everything that was within reach was moved to its "proper" place. After a few minutes of this behavior, he decided it was time to eat. It was like feeding a moving target. No. Let me rephrase. I was feeding a moving target. Grasshopper just started walking stably recently and so his most exciting activity is to walk really fast everywhere. He's also a very curious little person so he enters everything, sits on everything and then 2 seconds later dashes off to discover something else to enter and sit on. At one point, I was feeding him inside the fireplace where he was humming and swinging his legs. It's not so uncomfortable.....if you are anything under 3 feet tall.
Then came the fun part. Cooking. No one ever mentions cooking with a child is such a challenging experience. Since he couldn't reach the table, he decided to get me my "supplies". He brought me at least 15 tomatoes, a bunch of onions which he fist played football with (Go Sofapaka!!!!) and a truck load of potatoes. Unfortunately, since they are all round, some of them were thrown at me like balls and ended up bruising my sides but on his calmer moments, he placed them gently on the table and went to fetch more. Every so often he waited quietly waited to be told "good boy" before he went off for the next one. At some point, he did throw my onions in the dustbin and I ended up rummaging through the bin like a hobo. It was probably the best meal I have ever made. But also the most tiring.
After that, was the most distressing part of my evening. Changing of the diaper. Did I mention, grasshopper is a moving target? So he was not going to sit still while I discovered this un-chattered territory. I have never in my life changed a diaper so after pegging my nose sufficiently, I removed his dirty poopy diaper and then stared strangely at the brand new clean one. Now, cleaning a dirty bum is a very, very strange affair. (They should really teach some of these things in school.) All the while, I was holding him down so that he doesn't run out to my father naked.
After a not-so-disastrous change, we decided to eat again (kids eat ALOT!). It was another session of target practice and eating inside cupboards and on staircase steps and by the dustbin (he liked the dustbin area. I don't know why!!). An hour later, the food was done and he was seated on the kitchen floor drinking his milk (the only thing he sits down for). That gave us all enough time to eat like adults. I was pale and tattered and smelled like him. So much for perfume and body spray. Now I understood why all mothers smell of cerelac and milk.
Eventually, I decided for him, it was time for sleep and made an attempt of changing him into his sleeping one-sies. (I should get a pair.They look so comfortable). You would be amazed how many layers of clothes children have on. After like 15 layers of clothes, I finally got him to the bare minimum, dressed him up in what looked like his warmest clothes he had and put him into bed. I thought he'd stare at the ceiling for a few minutes like a normal person and then drift off in deep thought. Well, grasshopper is not a normal person, he is a child. He waved goodbye to me, told me ok!(one of the few words that we both understand) and then calmly closed his eyes. Two minutes into washing dishes, he was trying to squeeze himself in between my legs in the kitchen. So much for waving goodbye. When that became abit impossible, he moved on to rearranging the tomatoes and inspecting the dustbin.
Motherhood is hard. I only did it for 6 hours (yes, I counted. I was soooo tired, I had to count) but I had a renewed respect for every woman out there with the guts to bring a grasshopper into this world.
You want to know the highlight of my adventure though? It was when he hit his finger on a drawer and screamt like a banshee. Of course, Aunthy Mimo to the rescue. A few seconds later, he calmed down and then rubbed my shoulder soothingly and told me "shhhhh!shhhhhh!". It was such a precious moment.
I still have a relatively difficult time relating to people who don't understand English and can fit into kitchen cupboards and car dashboards but I am now confident, I'll love my own kids and should motherhood come knocking upon my scared womb, I'll just make sure I earn to hire someone to do the diaper change. I think I can squeeze myself into the fireplace if need be.
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