I love this space. I have been expressing myself over here for nearly fifteen years and it has proven to be quite therapeutic. I go back and read some blogs that I have written in the past, and hopefully I will be able to as well when my children are teenagers, so that I can remember what it was like to be one. Struggles are so easily forgotten once they are over and it becomes a test in itself to relate to someone who is going through something that you have overcome a long time ago. Just two days ago I met a mother who was recounting her struggle of weaning her daughter - she remembers it so clearly even though I weaned little M much later. I couldn't remember how much M cried, how many days I kept my turtleneck on and the exact process that I went through. All I remembered in the beginning is that I made dua so that she weaned, and it was quite easy.
I remembered later that I walked around in the middle of the night, holding my nearly two year old, while being three months pregnant, crying because I couldn't be strong enough to wean but my sensations were too crazy for me to continue breastfeeding. I remembered later that I woke up on a weekend day, at my mum's house, and realised that its been twenty four hours since I last breastfed my daughter, and that that feed was the last.
So I really want to recount my life as it is now - my struggles, my gifts. Its hard to find the time and the energy now, but I need to do this.
Right now, I am sipping on a cup of instant coffee while I occasionally rock baby A on my legs. She has been a little fussy in the last day or two, possibly because of the leap she's going through. M is watching TV upstairs with a bottle of milk. These days the only things I tend to write (type.. its almost as if I have forgotten to write by hand!) are to do lists and whatsapp messages. SO here's my to do list to be completed in the next hour:
- Finish writing this blog
- Load the dishwasher
- Get clothes ready for tonight (we have a wedding to go to)
- Clean room
- Pack some stuff into the car for tomorrow
And if I have time: Bathe A. Around 3 PM I need to leave the house for about an hour. I can come back and bathe A if need be. But she needs to be bathed. This little one throws up at least once a day and she has such luscious hair (mA) that all of the bits get stuck in her hair. Pretty gross.
I like spending time with M - she is into made up stories now, which is really fun. Her favourite game right now is that I pretend to sleep and she rings the bell "ding dong!" - then I pretend to wake up in a flurry and ask who's there. Sometimes its herself, sometimes she pretends to be someone else and laughs so much at the thought of it! The last few times she was pretending that I'm her cousin and she really had a lot of fun thinking how silly it was. She pretends that there are other people around, or that she's doing something else even though she might be eating at that time, or that she's a lion or a rabbit. Then she cracks up laughing. Its quite fun being around a two and a half year old.
But then it stops being fun when she wants to play that game over and over and over again. I feel a bit guilty when I want to just immerse myself in my phone or on netflix, but I still do, and I just turn the TV on for her, which I thought I wouldn't do... before I became a parent.
I have been having two cups of coffees lately because one just does not cut it. No nap during the day and broken sleep at night, while also trying to be a smiling parent to two kids - was it ever easy to anyone? Or did women just accept that this is how life is and just moved on? I guess its good that she sees that I'm not constantly doting over her, she will need to learn the skill of finding solace in solitude. Inshaallah when A is a little bit older they can play together and time will go a little faster for her. Time is going fast for me, but also slow. The hours are slow, but the days are fast. Baby A is already almost 2 months old!
From tomorrow onwards, I will be between two houses again. We travel for about three months in the year, and the rest of the time is divided between two houses for me. So I am always on the move. It is how it is. This world is not truly a home at all, and this constant move is a good reminder of that.
Should I start to document my daily struggles and excitements again? I hope I will find a little bit of time to do so at least. This will be something nice to look back onto when the kids fly off and leave an empty nest behind.
I remembered later that I walked around in the middle of the night, holding my nearly two year old, while being three months pregnant, crying because I couldn't be strong enough to wean but my sensations were too crazy for me to continue breastfeeding. I remembered later that I woke up on a weekend day, at my mum's house, and realised that its been twenty four hours since I last breastfed my daughter, and that that feed was the last.
So I really want to recount my life as it is now - my struggles, my gifts. Its hard to find the time and the energy now, but I need to do this.
Right now, I am sipping on a cup of instant coffee while I occasionally rock baby A on my legs. She has been a little fussy in the last day or two, possibly because of the leap she's going through. M is watching TV upstairs with a bottle of milk. These days the only things I tend to write (type.. its almost as if I have forgotten to write by hand!) are to do lists and whatsapp messages. SO here's my to do list to be completed in the next hour:
- Finish writing this blog
- Load the dishwasher
- Get clothes ready for tonight (we have a wedding to go to)
- Clean room
- Pack some stuff into the car for tomorrow
And if I have time: Bathe A. Around 3 PM I need to leave the house for about an hour. I can come back and bathe A if need be. But she needs to be bathed. This little one throws up at least once a day and she has such luscious hair (mA) that all of the bits get stuck in her hair. Pretty gross.
I like spending time with M - she is into made up stories now, which is really fun. Her favourite game right now is that I pretend to sleep and she rings the bell "ding dong!" - then I pretend to wake up in a flurry and ask who's there. Sometimes its herself, sometimes she pretends to be someone else and laughs so much at the thought of it! The last few times she was pretending that I'm her cousin and she really had a lot of fun thinking how silly it was. She pretends that there are other people around, or that she's doing something else even though she might be eating at that time, or that she's a lion or a rabbit. Then she cracks up laughing. Its quite fun being around a two and a half year old.
But then it stops being fun when she wants to play that game over and over and over again. I feel a bit guilty when I want to just immerse myself in my phone or on netflix, but I still do, and I just turn the TV on for her, which I thought I wouldn't do... before I became a parent.
I have been having two cups of coffees lately because one just does not cut it. No nap during the day and broken sleep at night, while also trying to be a smiling parent to two kids - was it ever easy to anyone? Or did women just accept that this is how life is and just moved on? I guess its good that she sees that I'm not constantly doting over her, she will need to learn the skill of finding solace in solitude. Inshaallah when A is a little bit older they can play together and time will go a little faster for her. Time is going fast for me, but also slow. The hours are slow, but the days are fast. Baby A is already almost 2 months old!
From tomorrow onwards, I will be between two houses again. We travel for about three months in the year, and the rest of the time is divided between two houses for me. So I am always on the move. It is how it is. This world is not truly a home at all, and this constant move is a good reminder of that.
Should I start to document my daily struggles and excitements again? I hope I will find a little bit of time to do so at least. This will be something nice to look back onto when the kids fly off and leave an empty nest behind.
No comments:
Post a Comment