Monthly Archives: August 2013

Baby’s Day In.

It all started when that little one, an age  of 1 and a half year old smirked at me assuring me and giving me the look of  “I’m such a good boy” with halo around his head. and then the chuckled with slightly tongue out, below his 2 bunny teeth while his tender fat hands clapped together.

I Aw-ed and took him in my arms, setting off to take him home with me for a whole week. I’m not sure when was I victimize of complete exhaustion and sleep panic disorder before, But surely I have come to terms of it. Never believed in circus tricks but juggling myself with one hand shaking a clattery toy to him while the other hiding all the significant, utilitarian and household stuff under the bed, while he screamed out of his lungs and I would just rush to prepare a bottle for him, Kicking all the squeaky animal toys and cloths in the way made me believed how grueling circus job is.

After much dancing on his fingers and singing him poems to keep him cheerful, There came a time when he would give up his strength and declare to sleep, That would light up a hope in me to relax myself a bit which was abruptly washed away with the innocent sign that he gave “standing his hands both above towards me” and then with a yawn and one hand cupped rubbing his eye. Swallowing hard I picked him up while he headed down on my shoulder, After fine 10 minutes of burden, the point when I was panting, I put him down in his crib. I heard a little irking noise of sobs which paralyzed my fugitivite, leaving me sighing inwardly. I laid him close to me gradually passing out and then panic-kingly awaking to tap him or caressing his hairs.

The week past in a blur not because I was having happiest days of my life, But because the circumstances didn’t give a chance to even look at the clock, As the “little one” demanded total attentiveness. Finally the time came when I had to say goodbye to him. My feelings of relief and pang of loneliness set in.

As the “little one” jumped in his mother’s arms left with the look of concern. Wide eyes, Fingers in his mouth and thousands of questions in his tiny head. I wiped my tears and sat for a long time and recalled all his mischievousness along with hellishly adorable looks in his face. for instance; times when he would pick up something tiny from the ground only visible to him and have the tendency to find it extremely delicious with his mouth already producing sound of chomping. He would look me in the eye, Smiling and then forming that smile into a frightened look with eyes wide at the same time and compiling his hands in a high five and clapped letting the tiny substance inside his mouth. Deception I would say (what a smartie)
However I would burst out running grabbing him and guiding him to spit it out, Before his mother kills me. Which is undoubtedly implicitly understood that I am to shouldered the blame of his havocking troubles.
All in all that little one marked a shade of realization in me that everything I did was merely for I was undeniably in love with him with, With my Nephew.