womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Fatherhood (Page 3 of 6)

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Does he do that all the time? 

Today Aru and V both had off days. 

Aru did a full on lie-down tantrum at Aunt Maggie’s. I was pretty shell shocked. 

In an instant, I went from being the cool mum whose kid gets to swipe the pay wave card. To the oh-holy-mother-of-god-mum – do I just let him lie on the floor and get it out of his system, but people are staring and shit is getting really loud right now I can’t think?!

And V? Well his unwashed dinner plate is still at the office table, with two open packets of chips next to it. Enough said. 

But each time. 

I thought.

Is he usually like this? 

First I thought Aru was messing with me for real. This must be a tanty technique to make me bend to his will. It wasn’t. He didn’t get an afternoon snack at daycare cause he slept over. And man. THAT KID WAS HELLA HUNGRY. 

And same for V. He’s not usually like this. 

And it helped me. Let it go. 

If just for a day. 

Then tomorrow, it’s my day 😉

X

K

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Rahisya Nadi

Bear with me on this one – I’m not a doctor or an Ayurvedic specialist. But once we get to the crux, you might feel ideas and thoughts ticking in your brain.

So, V and I have had multiple conversations on this – and in short – imagine a cord from your mind to your heart. Imagine that cord storing strong memories. Once a tragedy strikes or you feel something super deep, it gets stuck in your Rahisya Nadi – the cord from your mind to your heart. 

Now that you’ve got that bit. Let the story begin. 

// 

A long time ago, I was young and naive and really impressionable. I met a girl who liked the same kind of music I did. I was girl crushing big time. Finally, in the little town of Suva, I met someone with similar artistic interests to me. This hadn’t not happened in my life yet. I wanted to hang out! 

And so we did! It was awesome. 

However, after a while, for some reason, this girl was a bit more interested in my sister’s friends than me. One day I called and I realise she didn’t even want to talk to me, she told her mum to tell me she was too busy. 

I was so broken. 

From that day onwards, I never really leapt into friendships. I held back. Observed. I was reserved and cautious. 

I could never really express my true delight in being friends with someone. 

In my eyes. 

It was a weakness to express so much of my heart. 

//

I had an open heart. 

But after this experience had nestled itself in my Rahisya Nadi, I was cautious and closed hearted. It often takes me years to make deep friendships and even then, I never go around saying, “I heart you so much!” – unless I’m drunk. 

V asked me:

If you met a woman who was open hearted. 

Vs. 

A woman who was closed hearted. 

Whom would you rather be friends with?

//

The thing is. Life is about unravelling the life lessons that come from fear and dark experiences.

To be like a child again.

And let the fear go.

X

K

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Ready?

If it’s bothering you.
Chances are.
It’s challenging you.
And the question is.
Are you ready to step up to it?

 

x

K

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Don’t keep the damn peace.

NOTE: Featured image was taken at the Auckland Art Fair. It’s an art piece titled Burnt by Victoria McIntosh.

Keep the peace.
Compromise.
Sacrifice.
Understand.
See it from their point of view.
Don’t create a ruckus.
Don’t laugh too loud.
Don’t attract too much attention.
How many times do we tell this to
Our daughters?
Our wives?
Our mothers?
Our daughter-in-laws?

They are such subtle admonishments.
They can almost seem kind, caring, gentle and for the benefit of the woman.

But don’t.
Just don’t.

Choose instead. To.

Let her be loud.
Let her be angry.
Let her believe in herself.
Let her have an opinion.

And for God’s sake.
Let her share it.
Let her live it.

Let her wear her wildness on her shoulders.
Let her paint the walls of your white house.
Let her say no to the boy who wants her toy.
Let her question her boss.
Let her write that letter to the editor.

Let her question you.
Because that which you fear.
Is that which you need to face.

And at the end of it all.

Realise that it should never have been your permission she sought.

But her own.

x

K

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I met a man.

I met a man.
I fell in love with that man.
We had a baby.
When the baby was in my belly, my man took care of me.
He drove me home when I was in tears because it hurt.
He did a 10pm dash to the pharmacy for pain killers.
He gave me a hug when I said “I just want my body back”.
He didn’t necessarily buy everything on my Amazon list but took care of me he did.
Then when my bubba came.
The nurses said to me “Why is your husband sleeping? They all sleep when the mum is up all night.”
I didn’t tell her he was up at every feed, up at every cry.

The health nurse said, “Why are you here? Your wife should be here.” 

When he showed up for the first weigh in. He showed up for me, because I was too scared to be alone in a car with my crying bubba.

Then one day he was doing the diaper change and when he stepped away, I took over. Just like that. I told him he wasn’t doing it right. 

Because in that moment, I thought I knew better.

My way was better.

//

In a sea of women that just can’t let a Dad do his thing – I promise to let him be the one to take over. 

I won’t backseat drive this dad and I won’t nitpick when he forgets the wipes or uses the pacifier.

Because I want him to be more than “around”. 

x

K

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You and I 

I can’t escape you. The words you say.

The way they hurt.
You. Have. No. Idea.
How were we spun together?

What have you to teach me?

And what have I to teach you?
Ripped.

Shredded.

Till I’m unrecognisable.
You do that.
Unravel.

Confuse.

Hurt.
You do that.
And the worst part is.

You have no idea.

And you come from a place of the purest love.
X

K

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Daddy’s Little Girl 

NOTE: Featured image is by Matisse, titled Marguerite (1906-7) Oil on canvas at Musée Picasso, Paris

///

Never stopped being his little girl.
Never stopped wanting to see him smile.

Never stopped trying.
She’s all grown up now.

A career, a car and a man.
But I see her.

And when she’s with him,

I can see a little girl, with doe eyes and piggy tails.

Watching to see.
What he sees.

When he sees her.
X

K

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Dear Aru (Late August, 2016)

My dearest.
My darling.

I’m off on Friday.
For 10 days.
From you.
From life and all it’s responsibilities.
To breathe.
To be.

But my darling.
How do I let go of what is etched upon me?
Who will chase you around corners?
Push you on the swing?
Let you eat a banana when you’ve got a snotty nose?

My darling.
Your outfits are going to be a mismatch.
Who will run tender fingers through your hair?
I’ll be free to visit the bathroom alone.
But what will you do?
Without me?

My Aru.
We’ve been buddies again lately.
Found our rhythm.
Our balance.
We got our love language back.

Just don’t miss me too much and I’ll do the same.

Then it’s back to you and me buddy.

And our little wonderland of love and pain.
Push and pull.
Baths and noodles.

Hang in there my sweet.

And look after your Papa.
It’s harder on him than you.
It’ll always be.

 

xx

Your Maa.

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Mandatory

I think there should a law. Mandatory. 

Mothers should have at least 10 days off, if not more. In a year. 

To stop the thinking. 

To be free from the routine. 

From the 24/7. 
In these 10 days, no one should be allowed to ask them for anything, aside from if they want another martini. They shouldn’t have to answer to anyone and no one should second guess their decisions. 
We don’t expect staff to work all year, so why do we expect ourselves to do it? 
I think know why. We tell ourselves this is life and this is how life will be and we aren’t the lucky ones. 
It’s not that we aren’t lucky. 

It’s that we didn’t try hard enough to find a way. 

To believe we were worth it being better. 

Easier. 
To take the risk. 

To bear the taunts. 

To be on the other side of good. 

On the other side of “nice”. 

To be unaccepted, or to strike up the argument. 
To say. 

I need some space. 
So I can love me and you and us. 

Better. 
X

K

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Holding Off

I’m on vacation and I’ve got two sisters helping me with Aru, plus my Dad and V. But somehow, I still found myself not really wanting to be around him.

V said to me, “It’s like you’re comparing your old life to your new life.”
Travelling without Aru vs. travelling with him.

And he was right.

Everything I can do without him.

Go for a swim without having to hold him.
Take photos without rushing because he’s calling.
Eating food whenever I want and not thinking about his bed time.

The solo life.

And we realised.

All the while, I’d kept holding off the things I wanted to do.
Imagine being in Cuba and holding off everything you want to do.
Thinking, I’ll do it tomorrow or when we’re back, or another time.

But.

I can’t fill his cup until I fill mine.

So yesterday.

I took a swim in the ocean alone.
I took a yoga class on Caribbean sands (sorry, but it felt so exotic to say it, I just had to – eeeeeekkkkk!).
I did a merengue at the pool side.

And when the day was done.

My cup was full.
And I had love.
For my little Aru.

Xx

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