Bojjandi turns two

Wow, it's kind of unbelievable that this kid is already tw, almost ready to be a little boy and not my bab-looest baby any more.

It seems like just yesterday that A and I were struggling with the decision of whether or not to allow this darling dumpling into our lives.

I can still remember the crazy time I had when pregnant with him - working 18 hour days, with low BP and anaemia and all-day nausea. I'd turn up at work, white as a ghost, barely able to heave my heavy body up the stairs, and my colleagues would rush out to help me, pulling out a chair and getting me some water, worried that I was going to faint. I travelled like a loon when pregnant, for about a month, I'd get home only to unpack and pack a fresh set of clothes and take off again.

I remember the weekend before he was born, how much A and I partied. we were at madmomma's 30th birthday party saturday, me barely being able to climb the 3 floors up to her house. The next night we had a karaoke evening with friends that lasted until 2 am. Even at the hospital, when we checked in on Monday evening, it felt like a holiday. The older two were safely in my parents' care. And that meant a last night of chilling out sans baby for A and me, and we watched old movies on the laptop and fell asleep much before the nurse came in to wake me up with a sleeping pill. The only hard part was not drinking water all night.

And Bojjandi helped me breach the barrier of fear and go for a spinal anaesthetic, rather than the general one I'd had the past two times. I could hear the doctors as they went about their business, though I tried to block it all out. And I called A from the OT as soon as the last stitch went in, to reassure him that I was fine.

And then I went into my room and saw Bojjandi for the first time, all pink and white and soft...It was the fastest that I'd felt a surge of love for any of my kids, maybe because I knew he would be the last baby I would have. Every little thing I did for him seemed to and still has an added poignancy, whether it's teaching him 'incy-wincy spider' or giving him a bath.

I'm a little scared that I'm going to end up spoiling him, me, the strict martinet of a mother. Because I keep feeling like holding on to every moment of baby-ishness. If he asks to climb into my 'yap', I rarely say no. Or if he asks to be carried up the stairs at night, I'm the first to say 'let's'. Thankfully he seems to be a pretty independent-minded baby and wants to do everything his siblings do, so hopefully he'll manage to grow up at the usual speed.

Even if I'm clinging with one hand to him and trying to pull him back, slow him down and say, hey, let me keep you my baby as long as I can.

Ever since he's entered our lives, he has filled it with so much joy, laughter, fun and mischief it's unbelievable that we might have considered saying no to this gift of God. Watching him run round and round the house and then fling himself with careless disregard for safety of life or limb onto me or the sofa, with an intrinsic trust in the softness of the world seems to soften the edges of our own adult world. Having him grow and start speaking long sentences and communicate so clearly at barely two is just amazing. And best of all is having him hug me, folding his whole cuddly, roundd little body into me, arms around my shoulders in complete surrender - it's as if the whole world of stress and tension has disappeared for those moments and I'm in a wonderful cocoon of love and comfort. He has already given us far, far more than we expected, despite having two other kids who do the same. And he's only two!