Thursday, 21 July 2011

The boy who was born with a golden spoon

When Vivan was born, his paternal grandmother gifted him a gold spoon. She said, "My boy, he is not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but a golden one!" She chuckled, "you know its good for health too!". Yesterday, he had his first meal with his 'sone-ka-chamach'.

"Born with a silver spoon in his mouth"...a common idiom. Commonly thought to refer to the British aristocracy but this phrase was earliest cited in the USA, Deb. U.S. Congress, 1801:
"It was a common proverb that few lawyers were born with silver spoons in their mouths." Medieval spoons were usually made of wood. It has been a tradition in many countries for wealthy godparents to give a silver spoon to their godchildren at christening ceremonies. That may be the source of the phrase, or it may simply be derived from the fact that wealthy people ate from silver while others didn't.

In the keynote speech to the US Democratic National Convention in 1988, the Texas State Treasurer Ann Richards modified the proverb at the expense of the well-born and wealthy George Bush:

"Poor George, he can't help it - he was born with a silver foot in his mouth."

WELL! Here's Viv, simply lapping up his dal-ka-pani and toop ;)

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Shot time!

The meaning of 'shot' has changed from an 'alcohol dense liquid in a tiny glass that makes you spin' to immunizations Vivan takes against tongue twisting names of infections and diseases.

Thankfully, he doesn't cry much.

The poor guy has had about 6-7 shots already and has two more to go this month. Then we can rest in peace till "6-9 months". I'm pretty sure I'll be going around 9 months, not sooner.

Its shot time today! Be brave, as usual, my boy!

Monday, 18 July 2011

Shit, really.

Sitting on the couch, Vivan hanging on to my two fingers with all his little tiny fingers...huffing and puffing, trying to hurl himself forward to sit up straight.

Suddenly, "Shit, I'm stuck." Well literally, it was shit. I couldn't get up in the fear of his poop dripping all over the sofa. It was disgusting, yet the funniest thing that had happened all day. All I needed was some real shit to change the shitty day I was having.

I haven't stop smiling ever since.

Saturday, 16 July 2011

A baby changes your life

A baby changes your life.

You discover joy and fear can coexist within you, not for moments but for minutes, hours and days together. A baby shakes up your insides, well literally during pregnancy, and continues to do so even after arriving in the world outside. Your life feels so out of control but complete. It really is a strange cocktail of feelings.

After all the initial noise, you settle down into your routine with the baby, and cry. Everyone has gone back to normal life. Your parents and in-laws are back to their lives and come to spend time "only when he is awake", your husband goes back to his work, everyone returns to at least some part of their "normal" life, whereas you are left home with your first child. You may have read a 100 books, but the truth is you have no ***king clue if you're doing the right thing. You discover trust. Trust in yourself. Your baby affirms your trust, by pooping and sleeping right. Simple rewards for a tough life.

Life goes on. Everyday, you look for change. A simple smile or gurgle makes you feel on the top of the world. Every day that passes is a single more day he has grown up. A single more day that you've been a good mom. A great mom, actually. I'm proud of myself.

10:31 am | 8th April, 2011

14 hours of labour and one surgery where I was half awake, a baby arrived in this world and a mother was born.

My first child, my life, my soul. Vivan.