Being an Aunt

This blog is best summarised in the card I myself gave my nephew on his b'day... "U get the pride, joy and happiness of a son, without the Work!!"
And before you start, let me warn you that this blog is not anything like the deep "Being a mother/father/grandmother",  just a honest account of what it's been like for me these 4 years.. :)

When the nurse brought out M for all of us to see, I waited for the background music, the tears in my eyes and my li'l nephew holding my pinkie..but the brat that M is, he just scratched his face, cuddled deeper into his father's hands and went to sleep; and I was left thinking "REALLY???" And then everybody else started congratulating each other, calling everybody to tell the news and I immediately took my camera and started my new role as official photographer. The days in the hospital were filmy enough, I go to the hospital everyday, cuddle my nephew and went home in the evening and sleep peacefully... Little did I know all this was soon going to change.

Once my nephew came home, everything turned topsy-turvy. M was no longer the cute little baby from the hospital. Every time I did so much as just look at him, he bawled his lungs out, that I might as well be holding a knife in one hand and a can of poison in the other. And the nights were another matter. I was at that time a busy plus-two student and had to get up at 6 for my tutions. I needed no alarm clock, because, as regular as a clock, M would wake up at 3 and scream till 5 (who said baby lungs were not developed??), but I consoled myself thinking about my poor sister who not only had to stay awake,but also console him and send him back to sleep (Heaven help her!!!)

At the end of a month, M had become more (for want of a better word) mature. He slept peacefully, he even smiled at me two or three times!!! and finally when the day came for him to go to his fathers house, I shut myself in my room and cried my eyes out (yes, I did!!)

By the 3rd month, M had become the active baby of my dreams, and I spent all of the days he was at home playing with him (forget studies!!) and year 1 was a happy blur. I am proud to say that I was a doting aunt and he was a thankless nephew(:p). He played with me all day, and when the clock striked 8, his uncle came home and M was immediately Uncle's boy and when I went up to him, he was like "Have we been introduced?".

By year 2, M was walking, talking and doing lots more. And as far as I could, I was behind him with my ever-ready camera.Now that he had started talking, I had a list of possible names he could call me, which were all possible variations of 'Aunty' in all the languages I knew, but once again M beat me to it by calling me what everybody else called me, and sometimes to assert his authority, went as far as calling me Khadeeja. But, the doting aunt that I wanted to be, I was fine with it; even though I had warnings from all around me about the repercussions it could have in future.

Year 3: M had started going to play-school, and he lost no time at all in letting us all know about his new found knowledge of the world. He was now regarding himself as a Big Boy, and immediately corrected me if called him Baby...

Now he's a school boy and woe betide you if you call him baby!!!!

To end my blog, being an aunt is one of the best experiences in the world and I totally enjoyed it and still do, despite of all the pinches, beatings, stamps I get in return :), and you know what, this blog doesn't even cover half the fun I had all this time. I regard my nephew as one perfect being, and (possibly) bore my friends by talking about him all the time. And maybe some day my nephew will probably kill me for recording all the embarrassing things he did on the camera, but I'll just nod my head wisely and say "Wait till you become an uncle, then you'll know why!!"