CONVERSATIONS WITH LOUISE…

So there we were, Yiannis and myself, once again, bleary eyed, hopping on the early morning flight to Athens with a hurried connection to Brussels. We were excited to see Louise…Burpy…as Annie and I have nicknamed her as she burps like a champion. She started this charming habit right from the time she was born…with such gusto that it sometimes made us wonder if she’d thrown up on our shoulder. We hadn’t seen her since February although we had received tons of photos from Annie and had been scrutinizing her development closely … playing the videos over and over again and enlarging the photos on my mobile to see if she had sprouted a few more strands of hair or checking to see if there was a shadow of an eyebrow or if she was slowly beginning to inherit some traits from us…besides Yiannis’ winning belch and my mum’s frown. But nothing would match seeing her in person and catching up with all Annie’s news…although we talk very often on whatsapp, especially now that she’s still on maternity leave. However, our chats are not always smooth sailing. There are intermittent blustery disagreements, a day or two of cooling off…and then we’re back again yakking away like there was no tomorrow. There’s a Greek saying for this sort of relationship…`mazi then kanoume kai xoria then boroume…what it means is…we can’t live with or without each other…I think this somehow characterizes most mother-daughter relationships.

On the three hour flight we nodded off because we had woken up at 4 am…heads lolling from side to side and then thrown back with mouths open…only to jerk back into consciousness when the air stewardess asked if we wanted a beverage. Once wide awake we chatted endlessly about Louise…more a monologue…me doing all the talking and he the listening. Once he interrupted me  …`You know this nickname Burpy…er…I don’t think it’s a good idea’…`Why not?’…`What if it sticks and everyone calls her Burpy even later on?’ I think he imagined her being teased in the schoolyard when the other kids got wind of her nickname…`Oh, don’t be silly. It’s just for now. We’ll drop it after some time.’ He wasn’t convinced and grunted…`Poor Patuhaki.’ That was HIS nickname for her…Little Paw…which he sometimes interchanged with…`Pondikouli’…Little Mouse. All Yiannis’ terms of endearment are animal names or animal parts.

Oh what a delight it was to see Louise in person. She was almost 3 months and had grown some fine down on her head, a slight trace of eyebrows and lovely lashes. Best of all, she was such a friendly baby with a delightful smile breaking into a cooing and a gurgling and at times she seemed to be laughing at us…these two older people, a comical duo, bent over her, peering into her face and making silly noises. Nappy changing was a skill I had to learn all over again…washing her bottom under the tap while she kicked vigorously spraying water on me…then drying her with a towel, patting on the thick cream while she carried on beating her arms and hammering away with her legs…all the while a teasing laughter flickering in her eyes. And as I struggled with the nappy she would pump those legs even harder with bright determination, challenging me to get that nappy on…if I could. Somehow I would manage to grasp her ankles and lift her legs with one hand and push the pampers underneath with the other…` Ha ha you think you’re too smart for me don’t you? But this old dog has a few tricks up her sleeve!’ And just as I was about to triumphantly pull the front of the diaper up with a smug smile on my face…she would stretch her legs and curl her toes… and do her number 1… or worse still…emit loud grunting and straining noises and do…her NUMBER 2…Then that cheeky smile would spread across her chubby cheeks, mocking my failed attempts …`You thought you got me didn’t you?’ she seemed to say…and… I would stand there a little drained and a little limp just with the thought that… this old dog had to start all over again…`You wouldn’t believe what she just did!!!’ I once shouted out in exasperation to Annie and Laurent…`Yes we know’…they responded with amusement in their tired voices … `she does it all the time.’

One late afternoon we wheeled her, the four of us, to the Parc du Cinquantenaire with its majestic arches, fountains, and ponds. Everywhere the trees were bursting with lovely lime green spring foliage and we stood to admire the great big patches and swathes of flowering bushes of hazy blues and lilac with clumps of yellow and white and pink tulips pushing through. We peered into the pram to see if Louise with her bright eyes was taking in all this beauty…but she was fast asleep. We sauntered along the promenades  where children rode their bicycles and screamed and ran around on the grassy banks and joggers came up behind us puffing like dragons with an…`excusez moi’ and a `merci’ as we made way for them. As we went under the arches there was an explosion of music warming up the chilly evening air. On the left in front of the war museum, there were pockets of people rolling their hips and sashaying to the sound of salsa music which rustled up a rhythmic beat from the congos and bongos and the blowing trombones which… drew Miss Louise deeper into sleep. When we headed back and rolled her over the cobbled streets, bumping and bouncing…she snoozed through it all. But the minute we entered the flat and the pram came to a standstill, she opened her eyes and furrowed her brows, as if to say…` And why have you stopped?’

Just before we left for Chania, we visited the Rouge Cloitre Park, a beautiful forested area with tall shady trees and ducks and swans gliding on gleaming lakes of emerald green. We pushed little Louise along the paved roads carved into the forest. It was such a treat for her…the sound of the leaves swishing in the cool breeze and bird calls…the melodious whistling and trilling and chirping from the boughs of the trees and thick green bushes fringing the lakes…lulling her into a peaceful afternoon nap. We went deeper into the forest and the sky became grey and a fine drizzle came down and then picked up speed and the wind sprayed it on Louise’s face. She opened her eyes and frowned in annoyance…`Can’t a baby get some shut-eye around here?’ Then it started raining, big drops coming down fast…`We have to head back.’ said Laurent …`We can take a shortcut through the trees.’ I must admit I panicked and I could see the same look on Yiannis’s face. We were concerned about Louise. The rain showed no signs of abating and what if we got lost and went deeper into the woods, off the beaten track…`There are some steps somewhere here,’ said Laurent, as we tread on the sodden leaves thickly layering the forest floor. Yiannis…the man of the day,…the hero of this adventure… marched on ahead scouting for those steps and finally, much to my relief, shouted out…`Here they are!’ There were these huge steps cut into the muddy embankment leading down to the paved road below that would take us straight to the car park. …`Laurent, you lift the back and I’ll lift the front,’ said our hero. So the two men carried the pram down, carefully planting  their feet on each slippery step…with Louise sleeping soundly inside. Annie and I followed behind, squelching down the earthen steps. When we were all belted up driving home, Louise woke up with an…`ah ah ah ah…Look at me!…I’m going to cry now!’…` Don’t look at her because she’ll start bawling,’ said Annie. We had our heads averted all the way home.

When we got home she made good on her threat and cried blue murder and we ran around in circles. Somebody had to prepare her milk. Somebody else had to feed her and somebody had to change her nappy…And that somebody was ME. I whipped off her soiled nappy and rushed her naked bottom to the washbasin. And just as I approached it…she rained her number 1 on my trousers. I summoned up all my energy and slavishly laboured through the whole process. At the end of it all, Annie offered me some clean trousers but I declined…`I’ll change at the hotel,’…an excuse to make a quick getaway. Yiannis immediately took the cue. He stood up quickly and said we needed to have a shower etc…and so we wouldn’t be staying for dinner. We could almost hear their silent sighs of RELIEF …Louise was tucked up in bed and they needed to unwind and we needed to unspool somewhere else.

We got to the hotel exhausted and collapsed on the bed and scoured the Net for a restaurant and then set off…with no shower. It was a lovely Sicilian restaurant housed in an old building with high ceilings. We chose a table at the back facing some huge glass doors. It had a view of a garden with trees dripping with rain in the twilight. Yiannis had a beer and I a glass of red wine, full-bodied and rounded. The waiter urged me to try their bread…`Senora you must try it. It’s our special pizza bread.’…It was nice and chewy and slightly salty and paired so well with the wine. I felt this delicious warmth spread through my body and cloud my brain. I so needed this after being tried and tested and outwitted by a three-month old baby with innocent eyes and a captivating smile and… a bunch of tricks. As we waited for the rest of the meal… asparagus with a creamy dressing, thin fluffy pizza with a delicious topping and ravioli porcini…I imbibed more wine and slumped into that comfortable chair in a pair of trousers that had been weed upon and now air dried and a top with a dribble of milk on my shoulder.

So cheers till the next time.