5 months, 5 flights and 3 countries old

Dear Poppy,

Am sorry about the long while it took to get this letter coming. Perhaps I could attribute it to your jet-setting adventure loving spirit.
What is remarkable is not that you have travelled to 3 countries in your short time here in the outside world, but that each of those journeys has been marred by nail biting, last minute uncertainty. You really do like living on the edge. You must take after your grand father who has a similar reputation, but that you would start so early is something else..

Without going into mundane details and playing the blame game I shall try to list your list of near-misses:

• Your first holiday was to the Canary Islands for Jul (Christmas) with bestemor and tante S. We almost did not make our departure day as your passport was delayed due to unforeseen circumstances at a certain embassy. The same embassy finally gave you the wrong visa for your visit to India which had its own plethora of consequences. Anyway on the last day, at the last moment, the passport did arrive and we set off to Gatwick Airport. Little did we know what we had in store for us..
• Just as we were boarding the plane, there was a massive snow storm at Gatwick. We didnt think we were going anywhere excpet home, but 3 hours later, we did set off to +25 degrees celsius. Heaven! Gatwick then shut down for a good day or more but little did we care while lying on the beach in the Canary Islands..

• Our holiday to Bali from India was almost cancelled as you, not being an Indian citizen have certain restrictions to how many times you can enter India in a given amount of time. After hours and days of trying to figure out the process, we head off to Bali taking the very real risk that you and your dad might not be allowed back into India. I was happy to forego dad but was ready to fight tooth and nail for you, at immigration.
• In Bali, we found a nice travel agent who arranged the relevant permission from the Indian embassy in Jakarta. Just when we thought we were through the worse, it happened that the passports he couriered back to our hotel did not arrive in time. We had to change our flights! Hmmm another day in tropical paradise, could it get any worse?!
• Another few hours on the phone it transpired that we could pick up the passports from the cargo terminal of the airport even though the DHL office was closed. Instead of going to a Legong Dance performance at Ubud palace, dad spent 3.5 hours in a taxi to the airport to get the passports. Fun!

So, in essence, first you could not go to Spain, then you could not travel to India, then you could not return to India, but you made it, every single time. The most interesting part of the story is going to be the flight back to London sans dad. Just mom and you..Looking forward to the challenge

Also looking forward to more travels, more adventures, more near-misses. This is only the beginning. Cant wait Poppy!

Love,
Mommy

First and foremost

Dear Poppy,

No doubt in the little time that you have been around, you have had many 'firsts' but here are a few that stand out:

1. At the ripe age of 6 weeks, you got your very own library card. You are going to be a prolific reader, I just know it.

2. At the age of 13 weeks, you have already incurred your first library fine! A sombre little letter addressed to you came in the post. A grand sum of 20 pence for returning 8 books 2 weeks late. The library folks are not as strict to infants.

3. Your first snow. Very memorable day as mummy woke you up from a nap, dragged you out in the biting cold and snow to a swimming lesson.  She did not do her homework and therefore went to the wrong place, made you wait outside in the freezing wind while she made phone calls trying to figure out where she really ought to be going. She finally arrived at the baby spa all hassled and bothered. You were not impressed. But the look on your face when you were dipped in the water  makes me think mummy is forgiven.

4. By the age of 10 weeks you have already seen three movies in the cinema. Well lets say, mummy has seen three movies whilst you happily dozed all along (thank you): The Social Network, Going the distance and The kids are alright.

5. We have had innumerable visitors come by to see you right from when you were born. The person who makes it into the record books is uncle R who came to see you when you were 2 days old. He was our very first visitor.

TBC

Poppy bytes

Dear Poppy,

Here is a little list of some of your absolutely endearing little habits. Alas, old ones keep disappearing but more adorable new ones take their place. I really need to put them down lest I forget these priceless little gems.

Everytime you finish feeding, you raise your arm. Its your own way of communicating and telling me, 'mummy, its empty on this side. Can I have the other one please.' You do it unfailingly, every time.

Your absolute joy at waking up at 6 am every morning. The long and lazy stretches when you are unswaddled. You lift both hands, you elongate your torso, you extend both legs. You take a good amount of time before you finish this ritual.We would be delighted to have a few more hours in bed in the morning, but just watching your happiness at the start of the new day is infectious.





Your scepticism for all things new. As soon as you are confronted with a new situation, you close your eyes, go scarlet in the face and cry out loud for 10 seconds. Then you think, hey, I haven't even checked out this new place. Let me open my eyes and take a teeny weeny peak. Lo and behold, you see that its not so bad after all and you stop crying and usually actually enjoy yourself! Just like you mummy, daddy would say.

 
Your love for the changing table. Your biggest grins and loudest squeals are while your bum is being wiped. You love the freedom of being sans nappy. Even if you are feeling grumpy, you cannot help but smile big smiles while being changed. That's why mummy gives you loads of nappy free time everyday. Keeps the rash away and makes Poppy happy. Earlier, you would start crying when it was time to put the dreaded diaper on but now you are smarter and have made peace with the inevitable process. Recently, you have started striking a few weight lifting poses, you pretend you are getting ready to do some boxing. Why not also use this time to stretch.

Your blue Wardrobe: Thanks to your cousin brother R who is almost exactly a year older than you, you inherited a cupboard full of blue clothes. In fact almost all your pictures in the first 2 months have you in blue clothes. Mummy got lots of compliments for the beautiful little baby boy Poppy as she walked you in the pram and in the Bjorn. She ended up buying a tiny sprinkling of pink just to add some colour to your wardrobe.


Your thirty minutes-to-the-second, naps in your crib during the day. Exception: when outdoors in the sling, you can sleep for a good 2 hours and even more. As you proved during your first 2 movies at the parent baby cinema. You slept right through 'The Social Network' and 'Going the distance'. I can understand you not being impressed with Drew Barrymore but Mark Zuckerberg, he was very watchable.



Your intense, very alert, concentrated, curious, staring, frowning, I am learning, do-not-disturb-me look: It is the most unique and special thing about you. Every body notices it and is entranced by it. Passers-by on the street stop and comment on it. Daddy is thrilled. He loves your scientific temper and is confident that you are going to be an academic. Hmmmm.

Short term pain for long term gain

Dear Poppy,

In your short three months in this world, you have already had five nasty vaccinations. The first one was the day after you were born. At the time, you were so new and unaccustomed to the outside world that you probably thought the needle was part of the deal. You hardly flinched as the nurse inserted the big needle into your tiny arm.

At the tender age of two months you got two really big shots, one in each thigh. I had been warned that this vaccination was a particularly hard one for mums to deal with alone, and I had been advised to bring dad along. So dad took a whole day off work and we headed with trepidation to the local surgery. We met many other mums with babies there, all of whom had come for the same reason. We made small talk, discussed baby sleep patterns, colic and the cold weather. We tried to avoid talking or thinking about why we were there. As if to remind us, every ten minutes we would hear a loud wail from inside the nurse's room, increasing the fear and anxiety that we felt deep in our stomachs. The nauseous feeling in my tummy was worse than what I had felt before medical school exams, worse than I would feel before going in for vivas; it was discomfort at a completely new level.

We went in and you were smiling at the nurse. Little did you know what she had in store for you. I ended up holding you and having to restrain your arms and thighs as the needle went in. You screamed. It must have felt like you were being betrayed by people you trusted. As if this wasn't enough, I then had to turn you to offer your other thigh for the second vaccine. My eyes were full of tears, there was a dull thumping in my ears and I felt far away from everything. I remember not being able to register what was being asked of me. How could I put you through this pain again? Daddy had to intervene and turn you around so that you could get your second shot. You wailed.

Soon after you were asleep, as if you didn't want to have anything more to do with this cruel world. We came home and held you for most of the rest of the day. At one point you woke up with a completely new kind of cry, one we hadn't heard before. It was a soft moaning 'I am in pain' cry. Daddy and I looked at each other, helpless and not knowing what we could do except hold you close.

It was only in the evening, after your bath, that you decided that all was well and you were back to your usual happy and chirpy self.

A month later, it was that awful time again. This time though, it was just the two of us. I was braver and a little more stoic. The same mums in the waiting room, the same feeling of dread, even the same nurse doing the honours. However, this time you were your happy old self within a few hours of the ordeal.

I can't bear to see you in pain. If you were a few years older, I could try to explain that vaccinations are good for you in the long run even if they are unpleasant. But at three months old, pain to you is just pain. And when you're in pain, Poppy, so am I.

Love, mommy.

Toys, germs and saliva

Dear Poppy,

Yesterday we went to our first play group for 0-12 month olds at the local Children's Centre. You were too young for the group as it would clearly be an advantage to atleast be able to sit or lie on one's tummy, both of which you have yet to master. But you so loved watching the other babies from the safety of your mummy's lap.

I say 'safety', because it was quite a battle ground, the play mat! I was and still am in mortal fear of the day when you will be ready to join  the ranks of those outwardly cute looking but inwardly menacing little babies! The favourite sport on the mat seemed to be to try and yank another baby's eyes out! It was interesting watching the mums be civil and even smile and talk to each other while the other's baby tried to insert their finger into their precious baby's mouth or pry their baby's eye out or bang their little one's head with a toy!

As if that wasnt scary enough, it was horrifying witnessing the free flowing saliva on offer, all over the toys, waiting to be ingested by a different baby each time the toy exchanged hands! And to think that I wipe each and every one of your toys everyday with anti bacterial wipes when there is no one playing with them, but you!

I wonder what you were thinking while sitting in my lap, watching all the fun. Bet you cant wait to crawl out of my lap and have a bite of the action! On reflection, perhaps it is me who is not ready for the day when you are ready to leave mummy's little protected world to venture out there into this cold, harsh, dirty, rough but yet strangely enamouring world.

Love, Mummy                                                                                                                               

The turning points

Dear Poppy,

As you turned 6 weeks old, you suddenly decided that enough was enough. You wanted 'space' and were ready for some 'alone time'. You would wake up in your crib in the morning and not make a sound. You would just lay there quietly, hoping we didn't find out that you were awake, lest we come and pounce on you! So, I found you on a few occasions, just lying there, smiling at the mobile over the crib and cooing and babbling to yourself. When discovered, you would smile sheepishly towards us as if to say, hey, don't be offended, I was just going to yell out for you!


You would spend a good ten minutes lying in the crib, intently watching the mobile go round and round as if figuring out how it worked (your dad would like to think). Every now and again it would need to be wound again and as I came back to wind it up, you would squeal in delight as it started rotating. You started enjoying your time on the play-mat and in your bouncy chair and even the swing. It was a new lease of life for your mummy!

As the days got better, the nights  remained a challenge. We would spend hours bouncing on the gym ball with you in our arms. It was the only way to get you to sleep. And there remained the task of the delicate transfer from warm arms to the cold non bouncy crib! One wrong move and it was back to hours of bouncing.

During week 9, one fine evening, mummy decided to heed the wisdom of TH: The baby whisperer. In her book, she has solutions to all baby related queries. To cut a long story short, following her sush-pat method, mummy had success in putting you to bed on the very first day in a few minutes! It was hardly believable, we call it a little miracle. From then on, it has been goodbye to the bouncy ball.

Love, Mummy

To my friend Jacques, the peacock

Dear Jacques,

You were a present from A, J and little L, and I wanted you to know that you have been absolutely great, giving me company and providing me with entertainment on those long dreaded outdoor trips that mum takes me on in the pram. You have the most beautiful, colourful wings and I have spent hours just staring, smiling and talking to you. There isn't much to do, is there, inside the horrible pram where one can see nothing of the outside world.

If mummy ever asked me whether I wanted to go along with her on those grocery trips or those Friday afternoon meetings with her 'new-mums club', she would have heard my answer, NO, THANK YOU! I would much rather be happy in the warmth of the house, playing on my play-mat or in the crib, or looking at myself in my favourite mirror. But she drags me out in the cold, even in the rain! If not for you, Jacques, those trips would not have been bearable.

A couple of days ago, she took me to this huge shopping mall and she had forgotten to hang you on the front of the pram. The audacity. I screamed and screeched, and eventually she had to carry me in one hand, push the pram with the other and also handle the shopping bags, hee hee! That will teach her not to leave you behind next time.

Love,  Poppy