Peluk II

Ezhar, my nephew, my love. 

I remember how it was a weekend in December, and he finally had the pass to be brought home. I remember waiting for quite some times outside the ward with my brother-in-law, for my sister and Ezhar. I was giddy with excitement and how the birth of him felt like an early, special gift for my birthday that year, which fell on the next day. 

During one semester break, I went to their home, to look after him. He was still a small baby at that time, and my sister had finished her confinement period and had to go back to work. 

Taking care of a baby can take such a toll on you. He wasn't my baby but my sleeps also got affected at nights. By means, it was on my own choice, since I had become such a light-sleeper now I'm older. I changed his nappy, sent him to sleep, fed him, entertained him, and for those 3 months, I became very well-versed of his routine. His milking schedule, his sleeping schedule, what food he liked and disliked, and literally every little thing about him. 

I remember sitting in a McDonald's with my sister and we were discussing the quality of poop he had for that day and just comparing it with those in the past few days. It's nothing gross, really, but simply a crucial discussion to have, because a happy baby, will determine the wellness of his babysitter and his parents ahaa!

Taking care of him day and night had turned me into such a mess. I remember thinking if any man saw me in that state, they would definitely rush away, like seeing a ghost.

At one morning, I was at the brink of breaking down. I was totally stonkered, my exhaustion felt too heavy that I was almost at my limits, and from standing, I crushed down kneeling. Then I started sobbing whilst feeling guilty crying in front of a baby. 

I cried, cried and cried while feeling defeated, stupid, overwhelmed and everything all at once. Partly because I was exhausted and maybe partly hormonal and partly and naturally I'm a crier. I covered my face with my hands. Then I wiped my wet palms at the sides of my pants while sadly looking at him. He looked back at me, and surprisingly came crawling to my way, climbed my body and gave me a hug. I didn't know he was actually able to do that. I couldn’t help but to cry harder, and tightened the hug, at the same time trying to support him from his back. God knew how much I needed that hug. 

It was such a beautiful moment and I would always remember how I was filled with a feathery lightness. Kids are truly such a wonderment and God created them to be blissfully instinctive. 

The thing about kids, they tire us down, always there to test our limits, but they also have this one superpower which, with just a smile and giggle of theirs, all your misery and tiredness would be gone without a trace, and you feel like you are sure that you can do this again. 

In those trying yet beautiful period, we had grown attached to each other. I remember how he would instantly wail when I tried to walk away from him and my sister. Going to toilet, having a quiet meals, had become a real struggle. When he was sick, and there's nothing I could do, I'd cry from the other room. 

Now he's older, he'd sing all the songs that have the word "Tybaa" when he sees me. I remember the last Ramadhan how he'd sing the Ramadhan Tiba song and turned sheepish in front of me. He can be cute and annoying like that. 

There's one thing about him these past few years that makes me feel so loved. 

He'd always check on me in my room, or randomly came to me and give me a side hug after saying my name and look me in the eyes and senyum gedikly. 

He always comes to my room, to give me morning or night kisses, all over my face and a hug. I remember the first morning I slept in and he came to my room for his ritual, I could feel my face went hot (maybe I blushed atm, idk), I couldn't stop smiling because he makes me feel so loved.

And yes, I love to annoy him too at times, especially when I had spent too many hours with him haha. Thank God he's older now.