“Hold
me, Mamma!”
I
could tell by the chuckle on her face that she wasn’t sick or gloomy, just
craving to be held by mom.
We
were in the kitchen, and I was doing the dishes while my maid was busy feeding my son.
“Hold
me, please. I am your daughter, no?”
There were a zillion explanations
why I couldn’t pick her up just then. My hands were all soaked with soap,
and I was just struggling to get through the job that my maid was going to do –
but had to bid it adieu as my son insisted being fed by her. There were
other chores to do too, and inadequate time to do them, before I tuck both my
son and daughter in bed. I was tired, having been up and busy most of the
day, and more than a little sullen. Finally, my shoulder was screaming at
me just from moving the heavy ceramic dishes, and I knew I shouldn’t really be lifting anything at the moment, let alone a solid 16
kgs little girl.
“You
never hold me. You only hold Akshat. You only love him”
I
thought of the tête-à-tête we’d had earlier that evening in the car on our way
to her drawing classes. When it’s just me and her, she proudly takes the front
sit while I chauffeur her around. I feel, with the seat a certain level of
accountability pops in as she never forgets to buckle up her seat belt which
she otherwise plainly disgusts. We’d been giggling and joking and singing
her nursery rhymes enjoying those few minutes of Mamma/Aashvi time before we get
to her classes and the evening gets away from us. She made a
comment about always having to go to the bathroom when she first woke up in the
mornings, which converted into a dialogue about kids; the importance of hygiene and mannerism and how
their Moms, Dads and Teachers get impressed with their decent behaviour.
She’s been asking lots of queries lately about the infancy she’s shedding
behind her and I can sense the level of curiosity in every question she asks. She wants the answers to her satisfaction and that can be really tough and highly uncomfortable sometimes.
As we talked, I realised, that it’s been more than 2 years since she has grown quite independent on her own.
I
can’t remember the last time I fed her a proper meal myself and made choices about what she'll wear.
She
suddenly chooses to sleep in her own bed in spite of an open invitation to tuck
into ours.
In
short, our little princess is growing up. She’s a busy, energetic, attractive, and
courageous five years old. And while I enjoy our connection now more than
ever, I grieve for the fact that an entire season in my life as a mom is
over. For the past six years I’ve been pregnant and/or nursing and/or
taking care of my charming set of Twins. Until sometime back, I was always
busy attending to the needs of my babies. And now suddenly I’m not. I have ample time in hand as they are on their own mostly.
It’s one of the major clichés of
parenting, except…. it’s not really a cliché. It’s reality. That time just zooms by. So reckless! One moment
you’re lying in an operating room of the hospital, meeting
two tiny 2.5 kg each babies who would make you a mother, and the next, you’re
standing in the kitchen with your five-year old daughter. Your LOVING
child. Who’s requesting to be held. And both, the gratitude of having been
blessed with all those wonderful and lovely years and the melancholy that they’re over, overwhelm
you all at once. They hover to take your breath away.
“Hold
me, please!”
I
dry my hands on a kitchen towel. The girl howls happily as I scoop her
up, hurt shoulder be damned.
I
held her for as long as she desired; until she requested to be put back down to
go off on her next escapade. Was it 5 minutes? 20? I lost all
track of time, swept up in the transient moment of having my sweetheart in my
arms for one more time.
And
just like that, it’s done. She’s run to her brother, her moment of craving
for mom already a thing of the past. I turn back to the dishware,
and those large ceramic plates suddenly aren't so weighty any more.
Great read... Keep it up!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks....your encouragement will help me in a long run!!
DeleteAaaaaaaw..."a treasury of precious moments"...that's what parenting is all about isn't it?. Sweet :)
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely...:-)
DeleteAwwww....loved your post..blog hopped here from women's web. Love your writing.
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot, S!
Delete