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Divya Times – Confession – Part One

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Let me introduce myself – I’m Divya.  This blog belongs to my mum-ma (I know I’m supposed to call her Amma and I know how to say it – but I just love pissing the pants off her by calling her mum-ma.  She looks so silly when she brings her face real close to mine to correct me saying “Amma, darling – not mum-ma”.  I just can’t resist :)).  People say confession is good for the soul so I will be a guest confession-er here every Wednesday unless:

  1. I’m holidaying with mum-ma/Appu or both.
  2. I’m punished and am not allowed to blog if I’ve been naughty.
  3. I’m grumpy because I have these big white things sprouting in my mouth.  What do we need so many for anyway?  I can chew my food just as well with the 8 I already have and my gums.
  4. I’m just being a difficult toddler and refuse to do what I’m supposed to do.  Who makes these “toddler should do” rules?  I don’t remember being consulted about them.

I’ve been sleeping through the whole night without a feed and diaper change for about 7 months now.  Pretty good, eh?  I’ve learnt how to pee equal amounts at regular intervals through the night so that my diaper doesn’t get super-loaded and I don’t have a very wet tooshie in the morning.  Ofcourse, the super-duper absorbent Overnight Huggies have something to do with that too.  I hardly cry for anyone at night unless I’m sick, “white-thing sprouting in my mouth”, have a bad dream or I lose my blanket and really, really NEED it back on. 

Sometimes, I scream my lungs out and after a LONG time, mum-ma comes very slowly and calmly into the room saying “Divya-ma, Amma’s here” and cuddles me.  But, there are other times when I hardly even make a small whimper and mum-ma comes running to the room to check on me.  It almost seems like she was just waiting outside the door for a chance to run in.  When she opens the door, I open my eyes only very slightly, peeping through the corner of my eye and pretending to be asleep.  She comes over, rubs my back and asks “Divya-ma, are you OK?” – almost hoping I will “wake up”.  I stir under my blanket and turn the other way to face the wall, hoping she will go away so that I can get back to that dream I was having where I was running free in a park, drinking lots of paal, eating many oranges, tearing up all of Appu’s bills, sitting in a huge heap of mashed potatoes – all at once.

And, then out of nowhere, I feel myself being lifted out of the crib to the words “Amma’s got you”.  I try to protest with all the words I can say – ball, hello, paal, book – but I realise, I don’t know many words and the ones I know aren’t that useful in this situation anyway.  My mum-ma cradles me like a little baby and settles down on the sofa bed.  She always says “Amma’s here” – I guess she wants me to know that she’ll always be here for me, no matter what.

Sometimes, she starts singing to me to calm my already calm self down.  I love hearing mum-ma sing.  I don’t really care what the words are or how the tune goes – I just love her looking into my eyes like she means every word she sings.  “Hush little baby, don’t say a word”, “Twinkle, twinkle little star”, “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall”, “Bananas in pyjamas are going down the stairs”, “You ain’t nothin’ but a hounddog” – hey, back up, that ain’t no nursery rhyme, I think.  And, now come to think of it, neither was “99 bottles of beer on the wall” which my Appu used to sing to me when he rocked me for hours to sleep when I was just born.  But mum-ma’s like that sometimes – she gets a sudden burst of singing inspiration and gets a little crazy.

Then suddenly, she falls silent.  And in that silence, I hear her heart beat – and with every heart beat, she tells me “I love you”.  I try to tell her that I’m OK and that she can put me back in my crib now.  But I feel her hold me a little closer.  I know she wants to hold on to my baby-hood just a little longer.  And I too want to be held a little longer.  So I snuggle closer to her heart and drift into a blissful slumber.

Ssssshhhh – don’t tell mum-ma. 

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. Wednesday, February 6, 2008 3:00 pm

    This was precious and beautiful Bavani! I loved it, especially that last paragraph – how sweet!! TAke care. Kellan

  2. Wednesday, February 6, 2008 4:27 pm

    *sigh* I miss that age.

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