Grandpa’s Account, Muhammad Hafuza Rahman

Fuza. Your mother gave you this name. It’s Hafuza, which means one who provides encouragement. A good name, difficult for you to pronounce, though.

You have been the center of attention since birth. Before that, your mother was the center of attention during the pregnancy (withyou inside the womb). On the day you were to breath the air, it took no less than twelve hours of agony, not only of your mother’s, but of everyone’s who’d been expecting you.

Everyone was excited when the nurse summoned us to see you in the delivery room. Then we sawyou, 3.2 kilograms, on your belly, desperately seeking for your mom’s nipple. It’s a kind of game the doctor gave you,your first in life, teaching you that there's no such thing as a free lunch. You get what you want only after you put enough effort to it. We were all laughing, seeing you, with your tiny white hand, trying to find the thing that will be your sole source of food for the next three months. It was under the blangket, so we were not really seeing you. But your mother told us, that when that little white left hand of yours touch and grab the nipple, you kind offeeling comfortable and stop trying for a few minutes, and dozed off. When you started again, your mom could not help to help you, and it must be your first happy experience. But only a couple of minutes sucking, you dozed off again.

Your mother couldn’t stop smiling looking at the top of your head, apparently forgetting all the pain of the last twelve hours. For one hour we gathered around you, most of the time smiling and laughing, until the nurse came in and told us to leave. It was time for you to take a bath, before joining your mother again in the maternity room later.

You had been a good infant. A lot of sleep, regular request for feeding, strong cry (when you mother intentionally delaying your feeding), and –whatever other people say- cute.

A month before, grandpa finished making a foldable portable crib for you, and a knock-down baby swing, made of wood. It was made foldable and knock-down, so it can fit into your father’s litle car, while you can also ride in it. The crib must be stowed in the back seat, because of its size. Grandpa did not know that your father’s company rule absolutely forbids babies to ride in the front seat, whether in mommy’s arm or strapped in baby safety seat. So, you always travel in the back seat, strapped in or with mommy, and the crib stays at home. Well, your father arranged to keep the crib in your house, and the swing in grandpa’s.

In no time you no longer fit into the swing. Then the crib was also not safe because of your bad habit of dangling both of your feet between the bars whenever you are awake.

Then you moved to Balikpapan, leaving both the crib and swing in grandpa’s garage. It’s OK, they are waiting for you brother or sister.

Six months passed, and lebaran came. Your family planned to celebrate lebaran in grandpa’s house in Serpong, then spend a few days in your mom’s family in Bandung. Grandpa and grandma fetched you at the airport two daysbefore lebaran day.

Surprise, you had a shaved head! We saw the few pictures of you that your mom uploaded to facebook, all with your curly long hair. Now, what a pleasant sight! You have a nice and fresh look with no hair in your head!

You walked out of the bagage claim area with one hand holding your mom’s (or was it your mom holding your arm?), met grandpa’s eyes, and said: “Mamau”. You did not recognize grandpa. But you smiled to grandma and stretch both hands to her. What a disappointment to grandpa. Well, you were cautious to grandpa, but could not resist your grandma’s charm.

You had not spoken much, but for a child your age, seventeen months, your vocabulary is quite impressive.

“Papa”, daddy

“Mama”, mommy.

“Nyenye”, grandma, or breast feeding.

“Kaik”, grandpa.

“Pupup”, close, or poop.

“P-syawat”, aircraft.

“Buuuu-r-uuung”, bird, chicken, duck, anything with feather.

“Mamuk”, mosquito, fly, moth.

“Kuupu-kuupu” (slow and whispering), butterfly.

“Ababa”, spider, ants.

“Kua-sh”, paint brush.

“Chiii-chak” sometimes “Chaa-chik”, lizard

“Aapu”, sweeper (your favorit item), or light bulb.

“Peop-peop”, umbrella (couldn’t be farther from the correct word: payung).

“Miow”, cat

“Kuda”, horse

“Cici”, rabbit.

“Jajah”, elephant.

“A-shay”, air conditioning.

“Dua”, two, three, four, more than one.

“Duduk”, seat, chair, sofa.

“Citanan”, washing hands.

“Ajih”, more please.

“Abish”, finish, empty, no more.

“Mau”, I want it.

“Mamau”, No, I don’ want it.

“Ninin”, cold.

“Kee-pash”, sometimes “Kaa-pish”, fan.

"Eee-kann", fish (whenever you see water or aquarium)

"Dudann", rain, raining

"Sha-man", asking for shake hands

"Sasha", you say this when you shake hands. It's your mom's name.

"Mi-nyem", lend me, please.

See, you knew too many words already, and many of them were distorted.

Your favorit fruit is orange, and you could not resist cheese. Bread with cheese, rice with cheese, pasta with cheese, noodle with cheese. You are a cheesaholic.

You walks like a model.Your right foot steps exactly in front of your left foot, and your left foot steps exactly in front of your right foot. Your foot steps form a single straight line, when you are walking straight, that is, which is not very often. This is unstable, because your toe keeps hitting your other feet, and often trips you. You don’t seem to care about this wrong technique of walking, and keeps tripping when you run. But later, I think that tripping is your best means of stopping your run. Until you trips, you keep accelerating.