"The trouble with being a parent is that by the time you are experienced, you are unemployed." ~ Anonymous
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Simple Things
As part of our healthier lifestyle programme (this requires a dedicated entry on its own), Wil and I have been going for walks around the neighbourhood. Whilst brisk walking one night last week, I asked Wil to list 3 things he was most thankful for-that day. Being the more analytical of the two, I expected him to take a long time to name thankful things. My sweet husband was speedy in his reply and came up with more than what was required.
Wil was thankful for: Ø Being able to have the time to exercise with me Ø Everything about us (he must be happily delirious that night) Ø Everything about the kid Ø The beautiful night (and day) Ø How eventful that day was (completing his new road bike project, eating nasi lemak from Tanjong Pagar market, getting a greatly needed haircut, swimming laps, swimming with the kid) Ø A decent job
When it was my turn, I named: Ø Our health Ø Great supportive parents (both sides), especially now with the kid Ø Us
It strucked me that we were both thankful for the simple things. We have come a long way, the both of us, from counting the number of credit cards or model of mobile phones we owe. It is the simple things in life we are thankful for.
Simple Things (by Zero 7) It’s an easy ride to roam You’ll never walk alone Naturally we blew Simple things we say Everyday we find the way Seems like we’ve opened up the door Feels like we’ve walked this way before Naturally we blew Simple things you say Everyday you'll find the way It amazes (me) Everyday
The kid looks nothing like me. For the first couple of weeks, we were hoping the kid takes after me in terms of looks. Share my view for a moment, how could the kid possibly have man-features right? I look hard at the kid daily hoping to pick up the smallest hint of resemblance. Her mouth is kind of nice, so is her nose. The chin is sort of sharp which is great. Oh what the heck! The kid looks exactly like her dad. I have a thirty year old picture (of Wil) to prove the resemblance. She even shares his blood type! Right now, I am betting on the androgynous traits little people have and am optimistic that my genes will ultimately prevail.
There are two opinions as to who the kid should resemble. Some say the father (the less parental of the two sexes) naturally feel love for the kid who look like the mother. Others are of the opinion that the kid should resemble the father. The father (the more aggressive of the two sexes) certain of the parentage will instinctively protect the tiny creature.
Our kid looks like Wil. His paternity instinct is most strong. We have ourselves a textbook case of a protective dad. The kid is lucky!
The pressure is off!!! My once highly productive mammary glands have been off-loaded, given the green light to decrease production and received the go-ahead to smell the roses. The milk manufacturing function has been outsourced. Today, four-fifth of the kid's daily intake is made up of the pre-fabricated, pasteurised and powderised kind served in a sterile plastic bottle with a size 2 teat.
The get-go was tough because the sudden demand drop created surplus of enormous proportions. The primitive brain screamed “ship out, ship out!”, but the cognitive thinking-organ did not support that. Lucky for me (or not!), my brain momentarily halted whenever there were such conflicting instructions. The internal mind struggles went on and it took a few days before the body reacted to the negative feedback. And those couple of days, I had huge baggage issues. I was partly grouchy, partly uncomfortable and totally disagreeable. The body soon learns and my daytime production has ceased.
I celebrated my liberation for the fifth time today. No longer must I connect my-selves to the mechanical instrument that drew out the kid’s nourishment four times a day. I am no longer bonded to a rigid time schedule that enhances productivity. I have outsourced and created a void. Somehow, I miss being the exclusive source of nutrient for the kid. What gave?
We had the kid's hair shaved today. All in the pursuit of a thicker, finer mane. The initial fear that she would protest (and very loudly too) was uncalled for. She is a cool kid. The sound of the razor so close to her head was a non-event. She grunted a couple of times at the start and that was it.
Took some time to get used to her new image. When holding her, we missed being tickled by her fine black follicles. Can't call her "Elmo" (Sesame Street) now. You know what - she does not miss any of that. She showed me that there is no need to hold on to such little things. She lives for the moment, so "un-self conscious" and without pretence. I call her "Bo-tak" now. I enjoy her for whom and what she is at this moment.
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