Travails of a travelling baby

It all started with the maid. She informed me one day that she would have to go home because her family was laying a foundation on her father's grave. I couldn't say no.

With her away, I would have to get another maid to help me and take leave the whole time she was gone. I mentioned my problem to my mother, and we mulled over it and the idea of going on a journey was born. This was in October, and we thought Ruatfeli would be big enough to travel by December. So tickets were booked, first only to Kolkata and back, then later to Delhi too because everyone thought there would be nothing to do in Kolkata for 4 days.

It was to be a large group - my parents, my brother and his wife with their two kids, and three of us, 9 in all with infant. As the time drew nearer the doubts grew bigger. How do I cope with the multiple feeding and naps? What if Feli gets sick? What if it was very cold in Delhi? What about Swine and other animal flus? Stupid me for getting nonrefundable tickets. And damn me, for ever conceiving the idea in the first place.

I made a lists of all the things that I could possibly need, and packed for four days:

1. 6 tupperware boxes.
2. 6 spoons
3. A hot flask
4. An electric kettle
5. Diapers
6. Half of Feli's wardrobe
7. Most of her medications
8. Oranges, diced papaya, Cerelac, dexolac, MamMam, marie biscuits
9. Bips and wipes.

Dad spared us his 'travel light' speech because he knew how tense I was. Not much could be done, besides canceling and losing thousands of rupees. So with fear and trepidation, 10th December came, and we left for Lengpui Airport. Feli slept on the way. So far so good. Our flight was delayed for 2 and half hours. Not so good, but somehow we could finally board the plane.

I could read fear in the Airhostesses' eyes. And loathing in the passenger who was seated next to us. In his slightly accented Mizo, he said he didn't mind the baby screaming and kicking in abandon. But it was evident in his mannerisms. We all heaved a sigh of relief when the air hostess led us to empty seats in the executive class. Feli finally breastfed and fell asleep. Now all we had to endure was 3 hours in Kolkata airport and 2 hours on the next flight.

We fed and changed Feli, she napped for several hours, but still she didn't like the next flight either.  We reached Delhi, safe and slightly unsound at 12ish, and poor Feli could finally sleep on a bed.

We had loads of lists, friends and relatives requested us to get this or that for them. Everybody knows about the huge price differences. But shopping with a baby was next to impossible. We did visit my college, met my friends and got my certificates and other things. And doing that much was quite tiring enough for Feli.

                                                    (with Padma and Monisha)

(Dusserah park near Mizoram House, Delhi)

 

                                       (Waiting lounge at Delhi Airport with Marilyn)
Mom offered to babysit for a day, and we managed to get some presents for other people, and several pairs of shoes for Feli, and nothing at all for H and I. But we did visit Nicco park in Kolkata....

An ugly black crow pooped on Feli and me right before the last picture. Was I mad! My kingdom for a gun.

It was wonderful to be back in Aizawl. Feli is resilient, and although she must have had a pretty tough time, she seems to be not much worse for wear, and she has settled back into her routine quite easily. And the one thing I have learnt from this trip is 'Do not travel with an infant'...atleast till they can walk, talk, eat adult food, or do the cha-cha.

Picnic break

It's hard to take time off. With a six day work schedule, we wait for Sunday with baited breath, and all too soon it's Monday again.

But last Monday was different, we got invited to belatedly celebrate my brother's birthday and wedding anniversary. So we all packed off to Zote huan, baby included. By the way, Ruatfeli is not new to picnics, this is her second time. The first one was a Departmental picnic at Park Eden, which is a pretty dismal place in my book.

Zote was much better. The weather cooperated, being wonderfully sunny and clear. The spot itself was clean, and the amenities were not that bad. The pool was supposed to be drained that day, so the water couldn't help being a little on the dirty side. The utensils provided were huge! Making Ruatfeli's food was difficult on their huge burners, but probably babies were not expected at picnics. I don't really have anything negative to say about the place, but since I am no frequenter of picnic spots, nobody should take my word for it.

Health, definitely Wealth

Ruatfeli is down with fever since Saturday. If she could talk, she'd probably tell me how her head hurts, how bad everything tastes, and how stuffy her nose is. Instead, she expresses her illness by being irritable and fussy.

Since she tends to puke out all medicinal things, giving her even paracetamol is an ordeal. Seeing your little one suffering is the one of the worst things you would ever have to face.

The only silver lining is I'm reminded again of the value of health. What I take for granted everyday, to be alive and healthy, is worth much more than wealth. It is the most precious of God's gift. What good is wealth if you are too sick to enjoy it? The unluckiest people in the world are the diabetics and the hypertensives, especially if they have a sweet tooth to boot.

I remember other times when people would tell me their little one is sick, and after a while, hear that the baby is well again. It seems to us only like a fleeting disruption in their lives. But a sick baby means sleepless nights, struggling with feeds, the smell of medicated syrups, and their vomited versions. Your shiny little bundle of joy becomes an irritable, hot little bundle of unvocalized pain. You're stuck in a helpless abyss, unsure of what to do, wishing you could ease her suffering or bear her pain. You remember the times when your baby gave you the brightest smile in the world, or amazed you with a new trick she learnt. And you also remember with guilt, the times when you would feel bored, or resentful of the restrictions a baby places on you. And you know you would do anything, spend any amount, be bored a thousand times, just to have her well again.

Familiar faces

I went to a friend's wedding with some friends recently, and there was this guy who looked extremely familiar. I asked my friend who he was, and she said he does look really familiar, but she couldn't place him either.


So we racked our brains, maybe he worked at where we worked. Maybe he studied where we studied. Naah. But he looked so familiar. If we didn't say 'Hi', he might probably be offended. Could he be a relative?

And the answer finally struck my friend. He was a newsreader on one of the local channels. Thank heavens she remembered before we went and blabbered at him. I wonder if he ever gets total strangers talking to him familiarly.


The pleasure of being cheap

A neighbour sold me these shoes at Rs 200 a pair. I fell in love with the price.

It seems like a minor achievement to find wearable shoes at these prices when shoes cost Rs 1000 upwards at the Millennium centre. At the workplace, I learnt you can get them for Rs 150 at the market :) But I still think I got them at a bargain. I know they're going to be worn out in a hurry, but they satisfy the thrifty Girl Guide spirit in me.

With everything being so darn expensive in Aizawl, it's fun to buy anything at a bargain. It's as though you were outwitting the enemy. You could get yards of cloth at the secondhand market, get them stitched at a local tailor, and have instant 'designer' clothes, which nobody else will have.

I can never bring myself to buy a blouse at 1800/- which everyone is wearing anyway. You can never have the most expensive shoes, or the most beautiful clothes, someone will beat you to it anyway. It's better (or atleast I think so) to be presentably turned-out and save your money for more concrete things...whatever those are!

Baptised by Holy water

Ruatfeli, along with 13 other babies, got baptised today. I feel a load off my mind. One, because for Christians, baptism is one of the most important milestones for a person. Two, because the ceremony itself is finally over!

I was a little worried that she would cry or fuss, since she's now 7 months. But Ruatfeli, being Ruatfeli, never made a fuss during the whole service. We had missed two prior baptisms before, once while we were in the hospital, and the other one because everyone forgot to tell us about it (and because we must have slept through the announcements at church). But all's well that ends well!