Things That Bang

No More Baby Suits And Diapers

Yesterday at the grocery store I saw a month old baby sleeping in the crook of his father's neck. The baby looked fragile in his blue jumper and the dad's collar had a wet stain with baby's drool. The mother was busy looking at Tupperware and my heart melted. The mothering instinct came to the forefront and I remembered the snuggly smell that babies exude, the gooey angelic smiles, the crawling, the first steps - you get the drift. Then, I remembered sleep deprivation, bouts of colic, the trantrums, the terrible twos, the general increase in noise pollution around the house, the constant questions, sibling fighting and the - 'have another baby' instinct tumbled down to the deepest recess of my heart. Babies are lovely but I agree whole heartedly with my mother. Having given birth to two beautiful angles the natural way I am of the firm opinon that its easier to give them birth than to bring them up. Being responsible for those pattering feet is often overshadowed by how we were brought up and on their shoulders we either lay our own baggage or we fuck them up even more by trying not lay our past on them and make even more grievous mistakes. But my sympathy still lies with the parents since its a big burden to carry. We are responsible for how the child's mind is mouled. Some parents do a fantastic job despite all odds and some raise individuals who are carbon copies of their obnoxious selves and add more reasons to be stressed in the external world. And I for one know that beyond two I cannot take care of a third. The third would be let loose in the world without much restrain or training - call him/her wild Mugli in toddling diapers. No amount of hormonal glamour will work on me. For once I have total control over my body.