Is it their helplessness? What is it?
These idiots with insistent ids
Who yowl when their unbridled bids
For love or milk go unregarded
For seven seconds—or who bawl
For no substantial cause at all—
Why are these egotists bombarded
With kisses, hugs, and smiles to spare?
Others, I think, deserve a share.
13.46, The Golden Gate
It is raining ‘em babies. What’s more, a good number of them are coming in twos.
My cousin Hemanth added twin girls to his tally last week; our Bashku has a new baby brother she’s fascinated by.
[Bashku posts: 1, 2 and 3; her mother Sowmya blogs here – mostly about her]
My friend Usha has an absolute doll of a baby who is six months old now; Sabiha’s three-month-old twins her keeping her awake all times of day and night, and at least two ladies in my small blogosphere circle – the Marauder and MadMomma – have had the stork visit. Congratulations, people! I wish you every joy.
I love babies. True, they scare the hell out of me before their necks have steadied and I daren’t hold them before then. Also I don’t know quite what to say to rheumy-eyed, inward-looking centres of self-absorption, but three months does wonders for their personalities, bringing awareness in their eyes, and intelligence and humour. They begin to grin, clutch, grimace and I fall in love again.