Nurturing 101

Nurturing 101

I rather like children – and I think it's rather normal for any woman to rather like children, especially the really young and cute ones who look at you with those big clear eyes of theirs. Some call it maternal instinct; some think that children were naturally built to have the kind of appeal that would compel people to take them in and take care of them. I prefer to think of it as a combination of both. But this does not mean, however, that I never freeze up and become frightened like heck when someone hands me their baby while they're busy. It's not as if it rarely ever happens to me – in fact, it happens quite a lot now that most of my cousins and friends seem to have decided that it would be a good idea to spawn at this point in their lives. And when baby comes, of COURSE, they would make everyone hold him or her – including me, their aunt who, let's face it, is small enough to get nervous about dropping the child.

But feeding a baby – yes, feeding a baby is quite a different story. Sitting quietly in a corner, I would have a pillow placed across my legs, and the baby would be lying on the pillow. I would slowly but surely angle the bottle in such a way that there would be little to no air or bubbles that would go into the baby's delicate tummy. Sometimes, I would be talking to that particular little boy or girl about his or her parent's childhood antics – it's an amazing feeling when they look up at me, as if they understood. Then, eventually, they would stop feeding and become droopy-eyed. This is the only the only time that would be confident enough to lift them to my shoulder – when I burp them.

People in my family joked that I'm doing well enough as a mother already, but for now I am content knowing how to feed their babies.

People in my family joked that I'm doing well enough as a mother already, but for now I am content knowing how to feed their babies.