When I married Husband, part of my personalized vow promised him a life together filled with love, beauty, happiness, poetry, fun, etc. (I can’t remember the exact words as that portion was impromptu… and here I was just talking about lacking spontaneity! I think at that time, I didn’t mind jazzing up my vow a little with something off the cuff as I wanted to add what I was sincerely feeling at that moment. Hmm, I don’t sound a bit defensive. Not one bit.) Anyway, I might not have delivered on that promise as faithfully as Husband would have wished. If truth be told, I might have filled his days with my neurosis more than I would care to admit, but when our baby came, I thought, “There you go… love, beauty, happiness, poetry, fun, et cetera et cetera personified!”. I think I finally really delivered, no pun intended.
When my daughter was born, I swore to her as she lay tiny and helpless in my arms that I would do my level best to ensure that her life be filled with love, beauty, happiness, poetry, fun… Déjà vu? Hee! The second time around, I might have sounded like a smooth operator, mouthing the same suave lines to different people to gain their trust, but I really meant those words more than ever then with Marguerite. I would be immensely happy to have her grow up to be a person with a positive disposition, with deep-seated happiness and genuine goodness in her.
The past few days though, on account of her cold, Marguerite’s disposition had been more fussy than sunny. Oh, there were still lots of giggles and smiles beneath the drip emanating from her nostrils, but everybody agreed that she may have already learned how to whine. Her babble and the few actual words she can say have very distinct tones now. You can recognize when she’s complaining, asking for something, or even when she’s telling on somebody (like when I hand her to her Nana, her babble seems to say “Mommy won’t take me outside!”. It’s monsoon season here, people!) Thankfully, as with her cries, she can easily be distracted away from those whiny moments. I just brandish something incredibly fascinating like an egg whisk and she’s suddenly fine. Do you wonder at the mystifying charm of an egg whisk or a balled up pad paper? Me too. Oh well. You’ll find that it really doesn’t take much to make Marguerite smile. I sincerely hope that that trait carries out into adulthood. Anyway, the cold stayed in our household for technically just a day and it absolutely didn’t take away from the incredible energy level around here. I’d like to think the germs were driven away by lots of cuddle time and those countless giggle moments as much as they were by lots of fluid, Vitamin C, and a Vicks Vapor Rub application secret shared by mothers across the globe. Marguerite’s nostrils may still show a little crust, but we’ve already claimed healing and given thanks (this, from the get-go actually).
*Posts such as this shall be labeled Marguerite Moments, not only because they are my moments with Marguerite (durrr), but also because here I keep a sort of record of parenting tactics in aid of creating precious memories for my child (and myself). Right now I’m all about common, but still extremely fond episodes, wonderful traditions, as well as those singular incidents of unforgettable exquisiteness, all lovely stuff that would surely keep one warm in a metaphorical cold and stormy night. I’d like your input too. If you want to share something, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or leave something in the comments section. Btw, the comments are being moderated to control spam. All of your comments will be published, positive or otherwise. I really encourage you to drop a line. I’d love to hear from you:)