If there is a post you read on motherhood, AND if you’ve struggled with it, then perhaps, let it be this post. If you can heal with me, then I would be honoured and humbled and touched. 
NOTE: This is one of the longest posts I’ve ever written (because personally, I don’t have the capacity to read so much myself! So I assume others are similar). But, if you take a pause and find yourself some place comfy to sit, I think you’ll want to read it till the end. Perhaps if you’re a mum or perhaps, if you love and adore another mum, or perhaps if your bestie might have gone through all of this. Or perhaps more so, if you’re like I was, having meetings with the Winner of Telstra Business Woman of the Year and her team, telling them what to do. 

Then the next day, wiping Aru’s shit. 

Shit happens. 

It has taken me 2.5 years of motherhood to recognise, that a lot of the time, I don’t actually want to be with Aru. 
I see it as my responsibility. 

My obligation. 

My duty. 

A necessity. 

Something I can twist to make it semi-enjoyable. 
But do I leave work early in a rush to get to see him? 

Do I hope for his bedtime to come soon? 

And when he sleeps, am I kinda dreading the moment he is going to wake up? 

Yes, likely yes. 
Have I done just about everything I can to make this journey filled with love and easier? 

But that doesn’t stop me feeling. 

All those feels. 
And for the longest time, I’ve denied that feeling. 
Because I thought. 

It’s BAD. 

It’s WRONG. 
To not really want to be there. 
So I told myself. I was fine. Happy. Delighted. 

Which I was in moments. 
Just not mostly. 
And I’ve come to know – that I like doing things from a true, sincere place. 

Trust me, I will not show up to your party if I really don’t want to. 

And when everyone chirps and says, “That dress looks so good on you,” I won’t chirp in if I disagree. 
But this is mostly important for the ones I love. 

I want to be truest to the ones I love. Love. Love. 
And at the core of that. 

Is Aru. 

My heart and soul intertwined. 

Even though it really shouldn’t be. 

It is for now. 
Being with Aru has so very often felt like doing something I don’t want to do. 

A bit like doing the groceries. 

Or washing the dishes. 

Something you do to keep on going. 

But something that is stopping you from doing what you really want to do.
Being with him has always felt less powerful. 

Less momentous. 

Less meaningful (I’m sad to say). 

How do you compare that to winning your biggest client ever? 

Or hiring a new team member? 

Or scoring a new meeting? 
These delights don’t come in motherhood. 
And I didn’t see him walking as my win. 

Him saying his first words weren’t my win. 

I saw it all as his. 

I didn’t see it as something to brag about. 

Share on Facebook or subtly tell my friends about like I’m showing off, but not really?!

Which I do give into by the way. All the time.
And so where am I going with all this? 

With peeling open all these layers. 

With hurting you and breaking the shell of reality so deep it’s cutting? 

How could she not love Aru? 

He’s the cutest being under the sun!
Now I know. 
True delight.

Isn’t a type you need to share. 

Or post. 

Or one you count likes for. 
There are no notifications for true delight. 

And if they are, they’re dinging in your blooming soul.  
In the facade of life. 
I lost the shine of him. 
The only authentic light. 

Giving me so much of himself. 
That for some reason the universe thought I was good enough to be on the receiving end of it. 
And so I strive everyday, to hear my insides, to be a present mum when I am with him. Not seeking distractions or short cuts or time passes.
But just pausing to be. 

With him. 
To soak him in. 

And the magical delight of him.
If it’s stirring dahl in the kitchen. 

Or picking blades of grass under the sun. 

Maybe one day it might even be getting my hands dirty on a canvas with him. 
But for now. 
Finding a way to pause. 

To stop the escape. 

To dwell in those soul notifications of waves of love.