Stages

There are certain stages in Kaia’s development where I can’t wait for him to grow out of. The “screaming because you can’t understand me” or the “peeing on stuff just for fun” stages capture this desire in its purest form. On the other hand, there are periods where I feel the mirror emotions of bliss and sadness for times that I just don’t want to end. My first memories of these conflicting feelings—the first time that I had ever experienced such things—came when Kaia was a few days old and I was changing his diapers. It was a rather mundane moment, but I can remember how clear it was to me that time was already passing so quickly and that he would never be this age again. Since that time, there have been countless times when I have re-experienced these feelings, and recently it has been on a regular basis.

You see, ever since Kaia recovered from his illness, he has really grown up—a lot. I think that his being sick, forced him to verbally communicate in a more clear way and it is amazing the difference between the pre-sick Kaia and the post-sick Kaia. Whereas the pre-sick Kaia would just say “wanta, wanta, wanta” when he wanted something, the post-sick Kaia says, “Papa, Kaia wants (fill in the blank, although usually it is something sweet or a book)”. Also, driving around the city with him is like being with a junior tour guide. He can tell you that “Cedar’s Restaurant” is on your left, and the “Ganesh Temple” is on your right and the “Park Sheraton hotel” is coming up. It is really funny because I think that he has a better sense of the city than my wife does. He has also been so loving and cuddly—coming up behind you with surprise hugs and kisses, huge smiles and funny jokes---and he’s just been filling the house with his infectious laughter. Even at Kids Central they have noticed a big difference in his personality. The last two times that I have picked him up, his teacher Nidi has said how much he has been talking and engaging the activities with more excitement.

Ever since we came to India, time has taken on a very different pace and there is certainly a part of me that dislikes how the speed seems to have ratcheted up a few notches. Again, as I have written in earlier posts, I know that he will be sixteen before I even knew what happened: all the more reason to savor and mourn the passage of these precious, unforgettable times.

Why I Love this Time: Our lunches together out on the town where everyone knows his name—what a trip.