“Your daughter ah… velllly intelligent….but so lazy wan!”
These are the words of my astrologer friend who gives me, quite often, unwanted advice and predictions at the most oddest times. I always take her comments with a pinch of salt; but like any seed of doubt sowed, the roots tend to poke my brain and create discomfort when I see a hint of realm in her words.
Yesterday, I picked my mother and my daughter up from the airport. Isobel is under the care of her grandparents for the time being, much to my father’s delight but to my chagrin. Lina, my domestic pillar of strength (sob!) had to leave Malaysia due to some personal issues and will only be back from Surabaya next month.
So here I am, ironing my daughter’s dress and making sure her porridge and milk powder is packed, whilst making sure my newly painted nails are kept beautifully manicured. We are to celebrate her one year birthday at a restaurant nearby and I am late, late, LATE!
Bel is on the floor biting on her ball. She drops the ball and it rolls over to where I am standing. She grunts and starts pointing to the ball.
“Nenen”*
(* In Bel’s language, ‘nenen’ means anything from her milk or food, to her toys and telling us she’s wet or sleepy)
“Young lady… you get it yourself,” I say to her in a stern voice.
“Nenen”
She continues sitting and points to the ball near mummy’s feet.
I kick the ball to her and then realize that she’s going to start chomping on it. So I pick up the ball, give it a quick rinse before I hand it back to her and continue my quest in stuffing her diapers in her diaper bag (again, with delicate accuracy as to not spoil my manicure)
“Nenen”
The ball is just two feet away from Bel.
“ISOBEL DANIELLA! You take your own ball!”
“Nenen”
“Walk and get your own ball!”
She starts whimpering. I ignore her.
Mum scurries over and sees her only granddaughter (fake) crying and starts fussing over her.
“MUMMY! How is she going to respect me if you continue spoiling her like that everytime she cries?”
“Alah girl… she’s just one… plus it’s her birthday!”
I roll my eyes and give Bel ‘the stare’. Mum takes her away from my gaze and starts tickling Bel. I relent and head to the room to add more blush and lip-gloss. Mum peeps from the corner and shows my daughter dressed in her birthday, Sunday best.
Isobel smiles cheekily to me. My heart softens.
“Mum, let her go? Come girl, walk to mummy”
She hangs tight to my mother and carries her legs up so she does not touch the floor.
“Bel… come? Don’t be lazy. Walk to mummy?”
Bel is placed on her feet. She stands for awhile only to sit down while pointing to her ball.
“Nenen”
Mum sniggers and gets the ball from her.
“Mum! She is manipulating you… Stop giving in to her!”
” But she is so cute!”
“Nenen”
I recall the words Dora says to me and I take Bel and force her to walk. She stands up and holds on to my thumb tightly. I then gently lead her to her ball and she prods on and I let her go, holding my breath. She takes two steps before sitting down again.
“Nenen”
I sigh and look at my mother observing my actions.
“She is just one girl… when she wants to walk, she will.
You only started walking after 15 months!’
I sheepishly say, “Yes, cause I was too fat!”
I hug Bel and give her ball to her. Aunty Michelle is finally ready and we are set to go for her first birthday party.
Gripping tight on the steering wheel, I stare at my pink nails and ponder. How many mothers out there felt like I did right now? I am sure there are mothers like myself, who dread the day, their child walks home with a prominently red report card or is called to the headmistress’ room because their child has misbehaved.
I sneak a look at Isobel from the rear-view mirror and see a happy baby gurgling and clapping to herself saying repeatedly ‘nenen’ to the cars that are zooming by her.
Everytime a red colored car passes by, I could hear her shriek in delight. I point this out to both my mother and sister and we all observe in anticipation. A yellow, blue and white car zooms by… and then a red Audi drives near us. Bel, again, squeals in delight!
Black car… orange car… black car… red! “Nenen! Nenen!”
We all laugh at our new discovery.
Isobel might not be able to master her walk yet, but she surely knows what colour she likes best.
Hmm…perhaps my astrologer friend is right afterall?
