Tuesday, August 6, 2013

My Bunkeys & My Zen

Samaira says bunkey for a monkey. Like how you would say it if you had a cold or a blocked nose . Samaira switches her m’s and b’s pretty randomly. So for her baby is mama, mama is baba or sometimes it stays mama, and monkey is bunkey. She has an affinity for monkeys, probably because it is one of the words she can say. And maybe because that’s her favorite thing in her room.

Some of my very close friends threw me a baby shower in the month of May, just a few days before Rehan was born. As a part of the shower, they helped to decorate Samaira’s and Rehan’s room. I wanted a jungle theme for that room and my friends gathered all the creativity and love to decorate the nursery and hand pick the right material for clouds, animals, trees, stars, frame, alphabets – everything. They spent the entire day beautifully decorating the room. And the outcome was brilliant!

Notice the monkeys hanging from the trees & peeking through the frame

Ever since Samaira started sleeping in her own room, we spend more time there, especially before she goes to sleep. She gets super excited when she enters her room. She starts looking for her bunkey, she makes the grrrrrr sounds when she looks at the lion, she makes the ummmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sound when she looks at the elephant, and she wants to touch the leaves and the branches of the tree!

When I tell her the story of chinku monkey, binku monkey, pinki mumma and rocky daddy, she wants to repeat the word bunkey after every time I say it! She listens to these stories very intently as if I have a very important story to tell. She smiles. She is amused. She gives me the satisfaction of telling these made-up mundane stories to her. I don’t really get a chance to put Sammy to sleep these days, especially because I am on call 24*7 for Rehan’s feeding. Putting Rehan to sleep is kind of interesting in its own way, at least right now. He sleeps like an angel during the day, and night is when he wants to stay up, and play, and eat.

I sometimes talk and feel like I am the only one on this planet earth to have two kids. I totally realize that is not the case. But I am surprised by how effortless the rest of the world makes it look like. I feel like an utter chaos most of the times. Off late Samaira has started to wake up in the middle of the night and she wants to stay up and play during that time. If she spots Rehan, then any hope of her going back to sleep can be kissed goodbye. She then wants to spend several minutes playing with Rehan.

It was during this utter chaos of a playful Samaira and a hungry Rehan that I found my zen moment. At 1 am. Siddharth was gone for 5 minutes when I had Rehan in my lap as I was vigorously rocking him by shaking my leg, and I had Samaira resting against my shoulders and holding onto my arms as she hugged me. I was singing to Sammy and rocking Rehan and I found my zen. My rainbow. My perfect bubble. My unicorn. Whatever people like to call it. It was perfect. Until, Samaira started to move backwards in our bed, almost fell, as I yelled in panic and freaked her out while grabbing her hand quickly.

Samaira is incredibly sweet with Rehan. At first she wasn’t sure why this baby is not going back to his home, like all other babies do. Then she got used to him being around. Now she is extremely curious about him and seems to adore him. She wants to put him to sleep – she pats him as she says “pap” (her version of “nap”) and sings “aaaaaaaaaa” to him. She caresses him, not so gently though. She runs to him the minute I bring him into the room. She gets really bothered when he cries. She literally goes around him in circles when he is lying on the ground and playing. Watching them interact, as long as she isn’t poking his eyes out, is a zen moment for me.

I totally get transported into this zen when Samaira hugs me. There is something absolutely incredibly warm in the hugs of this 19 month old sister. She gives us hugs when she wakes up in the morning, when she comes home the her day care, right after she knows she has done something we don’t approve of, or pretty much any time she wants. Irrespective of why, the result of her hugs is my heart melting away like it is 150 degrees outside!

Rehan has started cooing a lot more now and he smiles when we talk to him. He responds with a mischievous, sideways smile. He smiles like he completely understands everything I am saying, or singing, or blabbering. He encourages me to talk to him even when I think I can’t keep talking to a two month old who does not understand a word I am saying. Ever since I was a kid, I have seen my mom’s uncanny ability to talk to infants/kids, pretty much non-stop. So much so that I was convinced that she could talk to a rock for hours without getting a reaction from it. But now I understand why talking to infants can come rather naturally to some people. I understand the joy it brings when they respond to what some might think is a one way conversation with an infant.

I always realize my zen when I watch my two babies sleep. I feel like it is the most beautiful site I could witness.

It feels a little weird to be thinking and writing about my zen moments when most of the times I am not in that mode. Most of the times, I am in the exact opposite of my zen, or the unicorn, or the rainbow mode. There is lack of sleep, two babies crying at the same time, two babies hungry at the same time, a hungry me and a hungry Rehan at the same time, messy rooms, un-arranged closets, clutter of way-too-many toys, unfinished rooms, and did I mention lack of sleep. Although it is rather easy to slip into these pockets of zen, I wish they lasted longer. I wish I was more put together the rest of the times. I wish I had everything under control. 

But in the meantime, I try my best to keep a check on my I-am-totally-freaking-out face, smile when my bunkeys smile...because in there is my zen.