V left for Gurgaon on Wednesday night. I'll start from Thursday morning:
I get up in time to take the garbage out. I am awake enough to supervise the maid. The Bhablet's morning routine is followed with clockwork precision, more or less. After he's fallen asleep, I too crash. (Lunch is leftovers and The Bhablet's is being sent by V's mother. Because she wants to.)
45 min later he wakes me up by crying so I pull him out of the cot, push him somewhere far away from me on the bed and go back to sleep. 20 min later the cell phone alarm wakes me up to... potty. All over The Bhablet, who is covered in it, has been wallowing in it, and seems to have eaten some as well. His freshly sterilised bottle of water is a dead loss. My bedsheet is stained for life. Luckily I had a cover over me, because that too has a generous helping spread across the bottom.
I look, scream and jump away. Gingerly tear off clothes, take The Bhablet into the bathroom and throw water at him. Once cleaned and dressed, I deposit him in his walker and start bringing things down one by one from the bedroom upstairs. All this while attending to two phone calls and a doorbell (lunch). He wails for company at the foot of the stairs then decides to make for the bathroom, where I am. It's a small space and the walker is awkward, so he falls, onto the small bathroom step, and cuts open his lip, also bleeds from his nose. The cuts are actually minor but the blood makes me panic.
I clean him up, dump him back in the cot upstairs and carry on cleaning as he wails for the next 20 min. Clean myself, get his lunch, cuddle and feed him.
Take him to doc for a checkup. Luckily, Beq's dad (his doc) stays only 5 min away.
Come back home, we both crash once more. No cash in my cell card, grimy drizzle outside, so we stay in and get bored. Evening routine of dinner, gentle massage, change, bed-time followed through. He wakes up frequently, and is not comforted by me. He looks for his Babababa at night-times.
I go to bed late.
Woken up at crack of dawn by The Bhablet. I feed him, we both fall asleep. I have a vague memory of him whining for a long time but haven't faintest idea (or interest in knowing) why. Wake up late. Missed the maid and the garbage-man. Pile of dishes in the sink. Carried away by V's absence I had dusted his work-table, so the living-room's covered in a fine mist. Can't very well plonk a baby down in the middle of that. In a filthy temper I get his breakfast, feed and bathe him. Luckily maid looks in while we're bathing, so at least I don't have to clean or wash after all. He does his potty in my lap while munching his banana slices, and the over-loaded diaper from the night before just ejects it all firmly into my lap. His tummy's upset, so it's runny.
Somehow I clean us up. Hard to keep him from entering the bathroom without the walker, but I have put the accursed thing away. Manage somehow. Pop him down for morning nap. He takes forever to settle.
I close my eyes for a short nap and wake up at 2. Lunchtime was 1. Oh well. We have a visitor (doorbell woke us both) -- Beq's mum. I feed The Bhablet. She chats and plays with him while I snatch a quick bath and lunch. She leaves at 4, and we chat for a while and then go for our afternoon naps sometime before 5.
Feed at 6, he plays on the bed while I read my book, and then we head out into the damp evening to recharge my phone. He enjoys himself in his sling at my back, pulling the umbrella spokes, looking around him. I buy us an eraser and a pencil sharpenener. Hard to believe I lived in a house without either for so long.
Dinner, massage, change, bed-time. He takes an hour to fall asleep and then wakes up because the grandfather next door insists on quality time with the toddler in the house around then. They sing songs, tell stories and play games loudly, around 11 p.m. Why???
Rahul is in a lousy mood and keeps wailing till 1. Stressed out, V and I indulge in a quick, vicious fight over the phone. Sometime after 1 he finally collapses, but wakes up again around 2 and then 3.
My periods start.
I wake up soon after 6 a.m. Feed The Bhablet some, pack his bag, get ready and feed him some more. Have a cup of milk and two pieces of toast -- breakfast! (When was the last time I mentioned having this meal? I don't know.) Leave home by 7 to drop him off at his (paternal) grandparents. I need to reach Beadon Street (North Cal) by 8, and am only 10 min late, despite taking a bus and missing a metro connection.
Calcutta Walks training carries on till nearly 11 and then Dana and I leave, I thanking my lucky stars for the early break. Dash back to J'pur Park, pick up The Bhablet. He's napped, had his breakfast and seems perfectly happy, although this is the first time he has been left in this household without either parent. I don't know whether to be happy or morose, and compromise by changing his potty diaper and stained clothes. (Note -- am I the only person who keeps checking him for potty? Why am I so rabid about it anyway?) Check my mail (no 'net at home since V left, almost), pack up and head back home.
Bathe a filthy little boy. Unpack our stuff, potter around, play with him. Lunch arrives, so I try to feed him, but he's too tired, too sleepy and not hungry enough to have more than a quarter of what he usually has. I assume his breakfast was in fact later than I'd been told. I've noticed people (i.e. babysitters) only tell me when a meal started, not when it ended, or if there was potty after it. Oh well.
He sleeps. I bathe, sit down with a book and eat. He wakes up, so lunch is fractured. At 3 I fall asleep as well, to be woken up at 4.30. I nurse him and go back to sleep, after setting his toy basket on the bed. He seems to spend a fulfilling hour biting his toys and occasionally me. For variety, he throws the odd toy off the bed. At 5.30 Cousin J arrives to take him to her place. My brother is also there and we were invited, but I declined.
The freedom goes to my head. No V, no Bhablet, the whole house is all mine! So in joyous abandon I rearrange our wardrobes. As a result there are no clothes lying around in packets right now. I pack away possible handmedowns and admire my new sarees. I accept that my wedding makeup kits will expire before I can enjoy them. Before I reach the beautiful Elizabeth Arden kit (a big one), I have to at least work my way halfway through my current travel-pack of Estee Lauder. Am I showing off here? I think so. For somebody who doesn't even remember to moisturise, I have a fantastic makeup collection.
I make a few phone calls and have fun chatting. V calls to say that there's been a mix-up and he will not get back home tonight, but some time tomorrow.
The Bhablet returns early. He dined early, and my aunt and Cousin J were convinced he would fall asleep. He upholds their faith by staying awake and playing for another hour and a half at home. I potter around, finishing the last of my chores (laundry, tidying, re-making the bed at last). Bedtime massage and change is difficult, with The Bhablet throwing some serious tantrums, but I retain my new-found patience with and goodwill towards Nasty Little Brats.
He sleeps soon, but also gets disturbed soon (that grandfather is at it again) and I run up once more. My dinner gets cold and I lose my appetite.
V calls, and I commiserate. He still has a bad cold and wanted to get home, and is understandably annoyed. I mention that the 'net is still off, and we work out that actually the router has had its adaptor pulled out. Hurrah, I'm back online.
And V will be back tomorrow. And The Bhablet is rather adorable, even is he is a nuisance. All's well with my world. How about yours?
Just noticed: this one's my hundredth post this year.