the struggle

To be practical is not always the most easy thing to do.

Everytime you turn to your nanny when you are sleepy, hungry or hurt - everytime I spread my arms for you, and the person you run to, is your nanny, all pretensions of being practical are thrown out of the window.

To say that it hurts, is an understatement.

I think of why I choose to spend 10 hours in the company of strangers and not you. I think of why I leave you with a nanny, instead of holding you myself, but it does little to ease the pain.
some day, my dear daughter, when you are old enough, I hope you understand why your mother wasnt with you when you took your first steps or said your first word, you will know why every small little detail is documented in videos that are crudely made.
you see, I love you. I want you to be able to choose the life you want for yourself, without having to worry about any financial implications.

I want you to be able to attend the colleges of your choice, travel by modes of transport that do not include copassengers who are lice infested fisherwomen, and maybe someday, the freedom to spend your daughter's childhood with her instead of spending 10 hours a day working and worrying about the projects and bottomlines of companies whose CEOs and CFOs you havent even heard of.

I want all those things for you my baby, that I deemed as luxury when I grew up,

but I cant stop wondering, if we both are losing out on the luxury of knowing and loving each other today, for the luxury of a tomorrow, that I dont even know will shape the way we want it to.

stepping stones

there is something so bitter sweet about seeing you walk.

An urge to gather you up in the arms, willing you not to grow up, ever. not to leave the arms of your parents. to stop you from falling down and hurting yourself, from learning the lessons of life the hard way,

and then there is a pride in seeing that the little one you created is now walking independently. to see that you have the grit to fall and then get back right up. to get hurt and swallow your ego and hurt, and learn to do things right the second time.

This is, probably what the poet meant, when he said

"a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye".

Is there any other way that makes you feel so full, so complete, so much a human being than having a child of your own?

tee-tee

this is when you teeth and realise there is other food out there, not just mamma's milk ... bitter sweet moment

this is a keepsakes

Im sure you will hear this a thousand times over in your life time. What you did when you were 6 months old. I want to just make sure you read it here - words filled with the pride that a parent has. You are the naughtiest of all the 6 month olds I have EVER seen. Mom tells me, that I was naughtier, but thats just the mom in her talking. (maybe when you read this, you are going to roll your eyes and go - M..oooo....M! but hey! if my mom is proud of me, I have all rights to be proud of the creature I carried around for 9 months too :) ) So, we go to Cantoment, to visit A's son (a cutie he is, I must say - A and I have already begun matchmaking you guys, like a couple of old hags :P ... dont get any ideas though, he is a full 3 months younger to you). So, anyways, we go there, and he is just so cute that I want to hold him immediately (ME! I used to hate kids and stay away from them like the plague, you my dear baby, have truly changed me in more ways than one), so rambling back, I hold him in my hands and make all these coo-ing noises that you have usually heard me making FOR YOU. you my little devil get all jealous and lean over to him and pull his hair and pinch his hands and kick him and head butt him. Nothing works. Comon! what did you think? the poor A Junior is just sitting there wide eyed and confused about why you are acting such... you repeat the process again and this time with more vigor and vitality. Nothing works again, so what do you do? you decide to completely lean over him, and push him away with your entire body - so here's you (and if we didnt know better, we would have thought you were this cute little baby trying to lean over him and kiss him) you little devil you, and A Junior who is trying to (unsuccessfully) get out of your way - you rowdy you!

and you got a walker

yeaaa :)

this is where

we try gymnastics.
Some day dear M, when I stop procrastinating, I'll get this framed and put it up on our wall :)

this is where,

you decide to help mommy by typinig out her emails to her boss.