Boy, O Boy!! Not a Girl!!
It was my first stride in the world of motherhood. I was embraced with a hoard of mixed feelings. I was joyous, dreamy, apprehensive, and petrified all at the same time. It was an indescribable new phase in my life, all of a sudden promoting me to the status of a “mother”. I felt it a very short journey of transformation from daughter to wife to mother. But this title of motherhood to be bestowed on me was full of serenity, beauty, duty and dreams. I always wanted to be the mother of a charming little princess who would light up our lives like a fairy and who with her fluttering little wings would spread happiness, content, harmony and peace. The little one, for me, would be the embodiment of beauty giving our lives a new direction.
I passed by the pavements and just peered into the glass panes (literally fogging the windows) of stores that sport the prettiest of baby stuff. The baby basket with satin and muslin covers, the frocks with the prettiest of laces and frills. The bows and the ribbons, the clips and the hair bands were simply made for my sweetheart. The ribbons had to be lucky to touch the soft tresses and the gowns had to be thankful to drape the tender body of my darling. So, I imagined and wove a very private and sentimental dream of the princess of my heart.
On a fine day, with great pains, I labored the child of my dreams into this world. My baby was placed next to me and I gently kissed it’s forehead and whispered the words “little princess” in it’s ear. It was my husband who snapped me to reality and said that I had given birth to a little prince!!!!
My dreams instantly vaporized and I was dumb struck by this unplanned eventuality. And now, strange as it may seem, remorse was not to take over me. My thoughts took a new turn. My dreams of doll-houses transformed into battlefields, car racing, HE-MAN, GIJOE and other action heroes. The ribbons and frocks re-tailored into pants, shirts and shorts. The sugar, spice and all things nice were now snails, puppy dog tails, as that’s what boys are made of.
Despite the fact that I loath the sight of a half naked ruffian running around the house with a gun, climbing trees, breaking window panes and having fights, I simply cannot stop myself from being proud of my little monster, the apple of my eye- my bonny boy.
So, all I can say is….. Boy, O Boy!!! Not a Girl!!
I passed by the pavements and just peered into the glass panes (literally fogging the windows) of stores that sport the prettiest of baby stuff. The baby basket with satin and muslin covers, the frocks with the prettiest of laces and frills. The bows and the ribbons, the clips and the hair bands were simply made for my sweetheart. The ribbons had to be lucky to touch the soft tresses and the gowns had to be thankful to drape the tender body of my darling. So, I imagined and wove a very private and sentimental dream of the princess of my heart.
On a fine day, with great pains, I labored the child of my dreams into this world. My baby was placed next to me and I gently kissed it’s forehead and whispered the words “little princess” in it’s ear. It was my husband who snapped me to reality and said that I had given birth to a little prince!!!!
My dreams instantly vaporized and I was dumb struck by this unplanned eventuality. And now, strange as it may seem, remorse was not to take over me. My thoughts took a new turn. My dreams of doll-houses transformed into battlefields, car racing, HE-MAN, GIJOE and other action heroes. The ribbons and frocks re-tailored into pants, shirts and shorts. The sugar, spice and all things nice were now snails, puppy dog tails, as that’s what boys are made of.
Despite the fact that I loath the sight of a half naked ruffian running around the house with a gun, climbing trees, breaking window panes and having fights, I simply cannot stop myself from being proud of my little monster, the apple of my eye- my bonny boy.
So, all I can say is….. Boy, O Boy!!! Not a Girl!!
posted by megha | 2:57 AM
1 Comments:
Hey even i love girls more as a kid, i have already thought of a name for my daughter, but it is something which is not in our hands.
Kids are kids, God's gift, girl or boy does not matter, yes people do have an anticipation.
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