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Wednesday, March 7, 2012

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Being a father to a baby daughter is a daunting task. And full of contradictions.

On one hand, I get angry - no, make that livid - at insurance companies who want me to save for my son's education and daughter's wedding. On the other, I am more protective of my daughter than I ever was for my son. When my son was taken for his vaccinations, I held his legs down firmly as they poked him with needles. With my daughter, it almost brought tears to my eyes and I had to tell the other nurse to hold her.

On one hand, I hope - and pray - that she breaks all stereotypes and does not become a 'girl'. I hope she becomes something very macho like a Mechanical Engineer (ahem) or an Air Force pilot or something like that. On the other hand, I call her baby, shield her from sun in a car-ride and buy her pink dolls to play with.

On one hand, I promise to treat both my children equally and make no concessions for either. On the other hand, I let her get away with a lot more than my son ever did. My wife is convinced that I will let my daughter get away with murder and spoil her rotten as she grows up. I half-heartedly protest and promise myself this is not how it is going to be. But then, what do I know?

When my son turned one, I had written that he made me realise how strong I could be.
Over the last one year, my daughter made me realise how soft I really was.
I did not believe in love at first sight till I saw her. And I can't believe its been one year since I saw her first - swaddled in that green towel and with no nose or eyes to speak of.
And in another blink of the eye, she will be standing before me with a man who will claim that he loves her more than I do.
Till that happens, I will enjoy my contradictions.


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