Oww!

Cuts and bumps and bruises form part and parcel of being a boy…or so I’m repeatedly told by rough and tough Papa.

Being the ever efficient, one should always be prepared, slightly over protective mummy that I am, I come armed with Purity all natural antiseptic spray and baby arnica gel in my first aid arsenal. I also have little green teddy bear plasters, courtesy of kind Dr. Thancanamootoo, in case the cut or scrape is serious! For all my preparation, I’m thankful that I’ve not had to break out the plasters.

Shabd, in all his earnestness runs with a devil may care attitude. He happily skips over rocks and clambers up anything that offers either a better vantage point or there is something interesting to be gained from scaling it.

He often trips with hands flailing out to brace his fall. And more often than not, his hands, like little Michelins break his fall, stabilizing him quickly. “Oww!” is the only word you’ll hear…no matter how hard the fall, “Oww!” This is my cue to go to Shabd, sympathize that he fell, rub his hands while all the time saying “Shabd is a strong boy,” quick kiss and whoosh he’s off again!

Shabd is at the ‘clingy’ phase right now. So having mummy or papa in line of sight is of paramount importance. If he falls, bruises, scrapes or bumps himself, it’s only mummy or papa who has the magic kiss to make his “Ouch!” disappear into a distant memory.

The sweetness of any word uttered by Shabd is comparable to hearing the soft melodious voice of a child like God. “Oww!” is a word especially reserved for me. It tells me that I’m needed. It reminds me that I’m unique and while I know that Shabd means the world to me, when he says “Oww!” he’s saying to me that I mean the world to him too. Some cares, only a mummy can soothe.