So here I am. Back in Gurgaon. But this time I'm armed with a baby and the 3 month post-delivery honeymoon has officially ended. My Amma dumped me here and promptly retured to Kerala ("Hey I didn't teach her how to make a baby! She'll figure this one out too.") and now I'm here with a husband who has more enthusiasm than information and a baby who is rapidly figuring out that his Amma is a wimp.
There are odd moments when I get it right. I stay awake after the 5am feed and flit about the flat cleaning, dusting and talking my plants into staying alive. But somehow this energy dwindles and before I know it I'm crawling back into bed, sometimes whimpering louder than my (now hungry again) son.
Those are the good days. There are others that are doomed from the start. For instance when I accidentally give my colicky baby Nasivion saline solution instead of Colimex, wake up my neighbours to borrow Vim to wash his bottles, or curse Fabindia loudly and vehemently for coming out with baby clothes that ALWAYS stain the rest of my son's carefully chosen wardrobe.
But through these days both good and bad there are moments of endless laughter. I love the way he leans forward to stare at me when I pick him up. His neck is still wobbly and he ends up landing slobbery kisses all over my face, much to my delight. He freaks himself out when he farts in his bath tub and stares at me as I howl with laughter. I could feel my face turn purple when my husband's friend pointed out that my son was giving me very meaningful looks as he sucked on his Pluto doll's pointy snout.
All in all, everyday is still an adventure and I'm learning every step of the way. Now if only I could stay awake long enough to know what the lesson is all about.
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