Leo Goes A-Viral-ing

Littloo decided to end his India trip with an almighty viral and his mum made the best of it.

So Littloo decided to end his India trip with an almighty viral. He also pushed a crooked tooth out, but the excitement of that was pretty much drowned out by the worry he caused me and to the extended family.

He was moody on Diwali but I put it down to a slightly upset tummy. Over the next few days his fever rose and fell, he developed a cough and then a rash all over his body. Add to that vomiting and loosies and who knew where he ached – probably everywhere – for he cried and cried.

All the visitors who delighted in my friendly smiley boy now wondered endlessly why he was crying so much. Sometimes I’d be so fed up with the questions, I’d say well obviously because I’m pinching him. The dogs probably overheard me, and having no perception of sarcasm, increased their vigilance, fixing me, their old friend, with a suspicious look every time Littloo became cranky.

The Impatient Patient

They say that amongst other things, motherhood is a journey of self-discovery. What I discovered when Littloo fell ill was that I am the worst kind of attendant. Leo, of course, didn’t like taking any medicine, but I nearly drove my aunt and uncle – both accomplished doctors with decades of experience – potty because the boy wasn’t recovering in like… 5 minutes!

I exaggerate, but the reality wasn’t far off. Add to that Darling Husband, oceans away in London, googling away the illness (the worst way to diagnose, that too, long-distance, I suppose!) and becoming convinced that the boy had dengue. No he didn’t, said my uncle, my aunt, my father, my mother (all doctors). Was that enough to convince us? Hell, no. But did I want the boy’s arm pricked, probably needlessly, for a blood sample when he was already in so much discomfort? Hell, no to that too.

Marvelous Mamiji!

While my grandmother did her bit by doing a ‘nazar utaarna’ with red chillies, my aunt, Roohi mamiji walked the baby in night-long vigils, administered medicine and reassured me, sometimes gently, sometimes sternly – depending upon what I was lamenting at the time.

Remember when I said that no matter how much help you have, you’re still just you and your baby when he/she cries at 2 am? Well, not if you have family like mine. Just like my mother helped when the baby was brand new and colicky, my aunt soothed the baby hour after hour, day and night, and when he’d finally sleep, calm me down as well.

A Home Away From Home

My brother teases that my aunt has spoiled all of us for Leo by raising his standards of what he finds funny or entertaining.

No one can match my aunt in getting those belly laughs out of him. That he’s fond of her would be an understatement, and she milks this every time she enters the room: she stands at the door and calls his name. He looks up and his face lights up at her sight. Then he starts pumping his arms up and down and they holler at each other as she runs and grabs him. And then it’s movie time, with me recording their endless giggles.

I guess I’m rather annoying with my phone camera, always clicking pictures, always recording little clips, but what else will I have to tide me over the depressing British winter and the year till Littloo meets my family again?

(Simrat Ghuman is Head of Communications and Marketing at Anthemis Group in London. A former TV journo, she has just taken her first step into motherhood and will be serialising her quirky take on motherhood in the ‘Leopreet Ki Ma’ blogposts. You can read her (hilarious) journey through pregnancy in the Preggers blog below.)

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