I loved this part.
I still do.
Now, I chase 11 year old Tanvi around the
house, sometimes pleading with her, sometimes threatening her, sometimes begging
her, sometimes forcing her, sometimes blackmailing her – basically doing
everything or whatever I can to get her to let me cut her nails.
Till she was almost 5
years old, she was totally under my “nail-cutter control”. I used to bend over her, every week and cut her nails – fingers and toes.
I miss those days of
pure bliss now. Ever since she has become strong and able to run away from me,
cutting her nails has been a weekly ‘fight of the fittest’.
Some
mothers chew the nails off the fingers of their new born baby. I could never do
that. That I find scary. But cutting with nail cutter is a much-looked forward
to activity for me. One more round of nail-cutting with the new baby. Yippee!
Oh
this is so true!!! I was on tenterhooks all the time. I don’t remember taking a
shower in peace throughout the period of Tanvi’s infancy. It was horrible
actually. I would keep the door slightly
open, keep peering out in between and constantly try to hear her sound –
of weeping or sobbing or gurgling or waking up or moving – whatever. The tough
part was when you would be covered in soap and at that very instant you would
hear the baby crying. A hurried throw of the remaining water in the bucket and
out you are to attend to her.
This
time I am hoping to let Tanvi watch over the baby while I finally bathe
peacefully at least once during two of my kids’ growing up years.
