Every minute is KTB time...
I have so many profound and important observations on life and philosophy to propound…but from the minute her eyes open, KTB is my not-so-benevolent dictator. On her tiny feet the whole time she’s awake, she keeps us on our feet, too. All those lovely, dreamy, vaseline-tinted pictures of the tiny tot playing peacefully and deocorously with her toys while the fond grandmother watches with immaculate make up ….ha, ha, ha.
The home is a tornado zone of scattered toys and books, all waiting for me to trip up and further ruin my damaged ankle. Carolyn calls her boss’s baby He Who Must Be Obeyed…believe me, this description is true of EVERY toddler in the universe! Incredible howls and screeches ensue if her every wish is not granted instanter.
I can’t understand it. EVERY baby goes through the same milestones, has the same lisping words, the same playfulness, the same mischief. Why, then, is each toddler so unique? Why does my heart go into a glow of happiness when the little one gives me, tired and hot, a lopsided smile of pure joy? Why does this nonsense-most-of-the-time-and-making-sense-all-of-a-sudden make me grin from ear to ear?
What’s so great about her bringing her body lotion to her father on his Skype-visit this morning, and saying, “mosschaizer”? We must be total idiots to feel pleased when she sees a dog and says “doggy” or “naay” (dog in Tamizh) as the mood strikes her. We dance attendance on her, think we are being disciplinarians when her mother, of course, says we are spoiling her to the hilt, and we are carefully not thinking of the emptiness that’s going to rule over home and heart next week…..
Oh, well, some nearly-beyond-human-frequency screeching is going on again, I better go and find out what’s happening!