womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Letters to Aru (Page 2 of 3)

Dear Aru (early November, 2016)

Dear Aru,

It’s been a long time since I wrote of you.

In this way.

Today, you woke up halfway in the middle of your nap and your Papa told me to cuddle you for a bit. Perhaps you’d go back to sleep.

So I came in, picked you up and cuddled you into the crook of my arm.

The place you seem to love falling asleep in.

From the early days when you’d nod off after a feed.

And your fair face.

Eyes so angelic.

Your pouty lips.

And your blunt nose.

All like a little bit of heaven.

I say this all the time, but I like you even more now.

Perhaps these days won’t come back.

When you turn around hoping we’ll come chasing after you.

When you love it that I tickle your thighs.

Perhaps these moments will quickly become memories.

When you beg me to read a book 3 times over.

When you give me the last of your raspberries.

When you stare at a cat and scream, “CAT!!!! CAT!!! CAT!!!”, as if it’s won a Guinness Record.

Perhaps we’ll never get this again.

Never get this moment in the sun again.

With you.

When we really are your world.

Your world really does revolve around our laughter and our love.

This heaven.

Might never come back.

So.

My love.

I just had to write it down, to tell you.

That there was a time.

When you once felt about us.

In this magnificent way.

Xx

K

Potty Training

Potty training Aru has been challenging.

I’ve watched V and I both become anxious and restrained in the process.

I realized part of my reasons to do it (aside from the fact that I think he’s ready), were also to avoid negative taunts when we travel to india. Which isn’t fair on Aru.

But I’ve also begun to realize (like many times before). He isn’t in my control.

I’m seeking solutions and answers and rectification. I don’t like things being inconvenient or harder than usual.

I’m so ready to challenge myself with work. But with Aru, I expect him to fit into my mould. Do as I say. Not challenge me.

And that is simply.

Not fair.

Sorry Aru. I’ll cuddle you and read you some “Partytime” tonight and heck, you can have some chocolate just for being such a little legend – even if you don’t shit in the pan.

 

Love your Maa.

Blessing & Curses and Karmic Balance

Could it be possible that I love you more today than I did last year?
I’m in Paris. For 10 days. Alone. Without you.
But everywhere I go, I find thoughts of you.
Every little toddler with a dawdling walk, a troubled cry, a quest to stuff his face with hot chips. I see you.

And of course.
Of course.
It’s easier without you.
I don’t have a routine running through my head most moments of the day.
I don’t have to compromise on the things I’d like to delight in because of you.
Don’t even get me started with prams and access.
It is so so so much easier.

But the funny thing is.
I’d say easier doesn’t necessarily mean happier.

I want to stroke my fingers through your hair.
Rub your back and sneak my fingers through your t-shirt.
I want to massage your chubby legs and say, “Oh my handsome”.
I want to watch you delight in toddler pools and trampolines.
Watch you delight in more than half of my pain au chocolat.

But.
I know now.
Missing you is the only karmic balance for being away from you.
And that is ok.
It’s all part of the deal.

Xx

Dear Aru, (Late August 2016)

They call it the terrible twos and I really know why.
But they forgot to mention that this is where the falling in love bit really happens.

Since we’ve gotten back from vacation it has taken us about 2 weeks to straighten out your wonky ways. And now.

Now you’re just delightful.

Every time you ask for a cuddle.
Say the word “kholo”.
Every time you start crying because the bike seat is too high.
Or better yet, when you demanded milk from the nanny so convincingly, she gave it to (at 5pm instead of 6pm).
Every time you flirt and look away to any woman’s delight.
You want to be read “book” and get bored two pages in.

There is something cuter, more loveable if I may dare say so, about you.

I’m glad we got to here.

I’m coming to terms now with the fact that it’ll never be a bed of roses.

And I have a feeling that’s how we got to here.

X

Dearest Aru, (Early September, 2016)

Pure Love

Dearest Aru,

For the longest time, I’ve heard people say that children are innocent.
They’re pure love, pure reflections.

And I kinda get it now.

I get it.

Every need. Every nag. Every desire. Every quest of yours.

Has nothing to do with me.
It’s simply.

Pure.

And with that. I can love you better.
Accept you better.
The hoops you put me through.
The strains.
Gosh. The damn pains.

All better.
When I know.
You’re just.

Pure.
Love.

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.

Sons. 

My darling Aru. 
Please cry. 

Please take cuddles in my nest. 

Please get angry and rest your head to the floor. 
Dear Aru, 

Please tell me your darkest thoughts. For then they will be “ok” for you to feel. 

Because it is all ok. 

Please know your body. 

Know that it is buzzing with energy. 

And all that energy needs to go somewhere. 
Dear Aru,

Please forgive me every time I’ve every manhandled you. 

Yes, it was in anger or frustration or exhaustion. 

And yes, it shouldn’t have happened. 

But know, I did it in the gentlest, most straightforward way possible. 

With the most compassion I had within. 
Dear Aru, 

A mistake is okay. 

An uncorrected mistake is not. 

Seek to learn, seek to observe yourself. 

Seek to change, adjust and be open.
Don’t let values from a childhood override your adulthood.

Simple values like bananas cause mucus. 

Complex values like more money leads to a happier life. 
You’ll recreate and adjust these values as you see life’s experience for yourself. 
And regardless of what you see and how you feel, 

I will always. 

Accept you. 

With open arms. 
X

K

Dear Aru (early June, 2016)

You are becoming quite the little boy now. 

And slowly, my fears are shrugging themselves from my shoulders. 

My tension is releasing. 

The fear of doing you wrong. 

The fear of raising you wrong. 

The fear of the error. 
I know now. 

You’re quite okay. 

As perfect as perfectly okay can be.
So I seek less outside approval. 

I listen less to their judgment of you.
The questions of daycare, yes or no, firmer or softer, greens or chips, parks or iPads. I let these all rest. 

For my sweet, you are perfectly okay. 

You are more than okay. 
You are the little man who wakes up, seeks me from room to room till you find me. 

You are the little man who giggles to find my sleeping form in bed. 

And the first thing you do before you start your day, is snuggle to me.

For a fleeting moment. 
Before you’re off. 

To be you. 

To be wonderfully okay. 
Xx

Thanking you for your little gestures of love, so massive to a mother, they feel as radiant as the sun on my back on a Saturday afternoon in November, by the sea wall staring at the tide and feeling the salty spray. Thank you.  

With love, 

Your maa.

Sons

My darling Aru.
Please cry.
Please take cuddles in my nest.
Please get angry and rest your head to the floor.

Dear Aru,
Please tell me your darkest thoughts. For then they will be “ok” for you to feel.
Because it is all ok.
Please know your body.
Know that it is buzzing with energy.
And all that energy needs to go somewhere.

Dear Aru,
Please forgive me every time I’ve every manhandled you.
Yes, it was in anger or frustration or exhaustion.
And yes, it shouldn’t have happened.
But know, I did it in the gentlest, most straightforward way possible.
With the most compassion I had within.

Dear Aru,
A mistake is okay.
An uncorrected mistake is not.
Seek to learn, seek to observe yourself.
Seek to change, adjust and be open.

Don’t let values from a childhood override your adulthood.
Simple values like bananas cause mucus.
Complex values like more money leads to a happier life.

You’ll recreate and adjust these values as you see life’s experience for yourself.

And regardless of what you see and how you feel,
I will always.
Accept you.
With open arms.

With love,
Your Maa.

Worth it. (Dear Aru, early May, 2016)

Dear Aru, 

You’re not far from two now. 

And you’re in that zone. That place, so many parents dread and weave tales upon. 

Suddenly you’re up at 5am for a bottle. 

But when you grab a stool and land upon my bed, to straddle me and say “shek-see” AKA sexy, you’re worth it. 

When you kick my legs so your velcro shreds my Woolford stockings, I’m so sad inside. 

But then, you follow me around the house and within moments of me sitting cross legged, you find a way into my nest, waiting for a story to be read. And those stockings can go get shredded. 

You eat an apple and I can trace your steps all over the house because there are apple peel bits everywhere. But then you offer me a bite and I can’t explain. Only a parent would know. How this feels. A two year old, unable to put on his own socks, can affectionately give me a bite of his apple. I am enamoured. 

Darling Aru. 

You drenched the kitchen mat, put writing upon your Maa’s white walls and wouldn’t stop at her lime washed flooring.

Where do I begin with the ways you drive me insane? 

I clean your shit, the food you spray and spit from your mouth, I am up at midnight when you wake up from bad dreams, so much need they never know it defined being a mother. 

In some dark moments, I feel like an awfully kept maid. 

But darling Aru. 

Then you fall asleep in my arms, drinking every last drop of your milk. You won’t let the bottle go. Your eye lids are heavy, your face always goes round and chubby from that angle. 

And you look like. 

Heaven. 

And I know, I learn all over again. 

That it is worth it. 

Those moments of something close to hell. 

To give me this. 

Heaven.
X

K

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