Little Ones

 Hola and Hello!

Myself SeñoRida

I have a brother who is almost fifteen years younger than me.

I'm know as the quiet, arrogant, brilliant kid at most places. 

There are some people who loves babies, right? They see babies and they start making faces, singing songs and trying with every effort to capture that babies attention and land them on their laps.

I loved to admire babies, play with them and make them laugh. I'd ask if I could take them. That was when I was ten years old or younger.

Now I simply admire them.

I've grown to be adamantly guarded to all social spheres of life. And the first of those being those interactions with babies. 

Honestly I love children even though I say I hate them, stay reluctant to go play with them and just politely smile when the little people give their attention to me.

I have a few baby nephews, baby cousins and an own baby brother. The only one I'm not afraid of loving is my brother. I'm terrified of loving anyone else but that doesn't mean I don't love them. I love to carry children around, listen to them yap and when they literally lie their head on my shoulder, I melt like ice cream. 

After all that stressing over about so many crap in my life---the best part of my day is often Adam. The five minutes I take care of him. Those five minutes I sing for him. Those five minutes that he pulls my hair. Those five minutes we both scream in unison. Those five minutes that I get to be me.

I haven't changed Adam's diaper. I don't know how to take care of a baby. I'm often very lazy about taking care of him. I don't take care of him that much at all. I feel bad about that. But I guesse we don't do all the things we want to do right?

I remember that moment when I heard that my mom had a baby boy. I couldn't see him for a week. One week later when I finally got to see him, I hated the world for delaying the moment. I remember being so damn overjoyed as I scribbled his name on the form for his birth certificate.

I was the one who named him. 

Adam.

It was my favorite name and I wasn't sure if my parents would have let me do it. 

Now whenever people ask his name, I'm like 'Oh, It's Adam! And I named him'

I'm one of those girls who have favorite names.

I was at my aunt's the other day. And my two baby nephews were there. Four year old Haizin and two year old Hemil. My aunt literally introduced me to them like; "This is Rida. She doesn't talk much"

And I don't think I'd ever forget the way Haizi blinked at me after that.

A few minutes passed typically---queit me being quiet.

And then---it began.

The kids were dragging me by my arm and they were acting like I was some kind of doll. 

I was the patient and they were the doctor.

They made me lie down and I half lay down and then they just shoved my legs on to the bed. They didn't have much of their toys since it was just their grandma's house. But they adjusted well. With a toy bus, they injected a medicine into me that would take 2 minutes to heal the entire problem. One of them was hitting my face with a plush toy bear and the other was driving a bull dozer across my arms. It was a very strange method of treatment.

But as the patient, I can with full confidence assure you that I was healed.

So many similar moments that I'd have written here. But this was today's blog, today's point today's little read. I had to write about it just for the;

But as the patient, I can with full confidence assure you that I was healed.

Sometimes I fall in love with the way that I write:)

Rida is a fifteen year old girl who aspires to be a published author in the pseudonym SeñoRida. She posts in this personal blog.

Follow my Instagram; @rida.senorida