It's messy. It's exhausting. But it's ours. ❤️

 There are moments in the day when this lil human simply melts into my arms, and I just sit there, soaking in his baby scent. Time seems to pause. No end-of-day tasks, no chores waiting to be done—just the two of us. It feels like meditation. 🤍

And then there are the other moments...

Appa is buried in back-to-back calls. The chores demand immediate attention. The end-of-day tasks seem to be laughing at me. And Puttu transforms into the toughest trouble. 😅

He annoys me to the core, then somehow ends up biting his own tongue or bumping into a door or wall. A second later, he's clinging to Appa's office door handle, banging on it and screaming as if I've committed the greatest crime imaginable, while I'm shouting at the top of my lungs, trying to keep up with the chaos.

Such is life with a toddler—one moment of pure peace, the next complete pandemonium. Somehow, both become the memories we never want to forget. ❤️

And then comes the weekend—sometimes even a long weekend. All we crave is a chance to pause. To slow down. To simply exist without rushing from one task to another. 🤍

But the day often begins the same way—with tears, stubborn demands, and a tiny human determined to test every ounce of my patience. As usual, I eventually give up, while AppaChaami does his absolute best to calm the storm. Will I ever learn? I guess I'll have to wait and watch. 😅

Sunday mornings are a story of their own. Puttu refuses to let me get out of bed. He wants me to stay curled up beside him, cuddling him back to sleep, while my stomach is growling, breakfast isn't even started, and my patience is quietly slipping away.

And then it suddenly hits me... OMG... I'm already a parent.

The diary has to be checked every day. Nails have to be trimmed. Homework has to be tracked. There isn't much room for, "It's okay, we'll do it later."

Birthdays aren't really our birthdays anymore. The cake that once belonged to us is now happily smashed, poked, and claimed before we even have a proper slice. Somehow, it's both adorable and mildly annoying at the same time. 😂

Some nights are an endless game of tossing and turning because our lil human wants to sleep only while cuddling me.

And then there are the butter-churning days. The Picture ……

I'm in the kitchen washing the butter, melting it into ghee, transferring the buttermilk, and doing a dozen other things, while this lil fellow, who had helped me take the butter out, is happily in the bathroom with the hot-water tap running, his baby soap floating in the bucket, and butter smeared all over himself.

By the time I finish the kitchen, give him another bath, change him into fresh clothes, and finally think I can get back to work... he's already making endless trips to the fridge, opening and closing the door just because he can.

Honestly, I don't even know how many times I call out his name in a single day! Puttu insists on "helping" me make chai. Sometimes it's the sweetest thing ever, and sometimes he's simply adding extra spice to my temper. 🤭

And lately, I feel like I have a pregnant person at home. Every other day, there's a brand-new dessert request.

"Amma... can you make this?"

So I happily make it... only for him to take one tiny bite, announce he's done, and disappear. Now who's supposed to finish the rest? 😂

Some mornings, he's happily settled on the kitchen counter by seven o'clock. Those are usually the mornings when I fail to hide before Sudhi brings him out of the bedroom. From that moment on, he wants only Amma's shoulder. No matter how much Appa tries, Puttu simply won't go to him.

Then there are the easier mornings too. He happily gets his face washed, says his little prayers, and we all sit down together for breakfast.

Once breakfast is done and Amma is ready for work, Puttu comes along with AppaChaami to wave goodbye. They spend a few minutes soaking up the morning sunshine, chatting with school-going children, counting buses, and watching the world wake up.

Finally, Sudhi coaxes him onto his school bus. In the beginning, those drop-offs were heartbreaking for both of them. Slowly, the tears became fewer, the goodbyes became easier, and now it no longer feels like a daily battle. But with toddlers, we never really know when one phase ends and another begins.

Some weekends are anything but restful. They're loud. They're messy. They're exhausting.

But they're also filled with laughter, warm cuddles, sticky hands, tiny footsteps racing through the house, endless "Amma"s, surprise hugs, and memories quietly being made in the middle of all the chaos—Appa's Jumbo Safari, indoor tennis, and so much more.

Like the other day when we went shopping. Puttu was getting so cranky, completely ready to hijack our thoughts, so I bought him a simple 70-rupee cat balloon just so we could walk in peace and actually think about what we needed to do next. He was so incredibly happy. He kept thanking me for buying it and spent the whole time talking to that cat balloon. Honestly, my eyes filled with tears just looking at his innocence and his sweet lil heart.

The truth is, we are so exhausted. It's not even because of the physical chores, but the mental load of it all—never being able to complete a task on time or the way we planned it. Everything just stretches out because Puttu needs us to be right there with him. And really, what else can he do? He gets bored too.

Years from now, I probably won't remember whether the house was spotless or whether breakfast was on time. But I'll remember the little arms that refused to let me leave the bed, the tiny voice asking for "just one more cuddle," the butter-smeared cheeks, the endless dessert requests, the fridge door opening for the hundredth time, the school-bus goodbyes, and every ordinary moment that somehow became extraordinary.

This season is loud. It's messy. It's exhausting. But it's ours. ❤️