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Being a mum and all that jazz..

This year, Mother’s Day was going to be just another day. SP was away and I had my day planned out..Ms.A’s class at 9 am, followed by housework, a bit of cooking etc.
SP has always made me feel special on Mother’s Day. The first year, he actually spoiled me for Mother’s Day was the year before Ms.A was born. We weren’t even expecting then, but he knew how much I wanted a baby – a baby girl πŸ™‚ And so that year on Mother’s Day, he came home with a potted plant and a beautiful purple metal butterfly, because I always said that butterflies, reminded me of my mom and that they gave me hope. Sure enough, later that year, I fell pregnant.
Every year after that, he has done something special for me. He is not the breakfast-in-bed kind of a guy.. but he more than makes up for it by making sure, I don’t cook or clean on that day- that day and on my birthday πŸ˜€

When Ms.A started school, she came home with the idea of cooking breakfast for me. SP freaked out because you see, cooking is not his forte’. Still they refused to let me get out of bed and served me breakfast in bed-toast that was smeared with copious amounts of butter and my favourite tea and orange juice. When I grimaced looking at the butter, he tactfully got more slices of bread and evenly split the blob of butter on the other slices πŸ™‚
But this year he was away for his course. The girls were missing him and I wasn’t the most popular mother, because I had refused to take them out for dinner the previous night, so I wasn’t expecting anything special.

I woke up and checked Facebook on my phone. My timeline was flooded with pictures of my friends with their mothers and immediately, I was filled with sadness.. sadness, because I don’t have a single photo of my mom and me, here. I can’t even remember the last photo that we clicked together. When I was growing up, photos were clicked only on rare special occasions. May be that’s why I click so many photos of my babies, almost every day..to capture all the special everyday moments. May be that’s why I have put myself back in the photos with them, so they don’t regret it one day, like I do. All these thoughts were racing in my mind, when two little hands wrapped themselves around my neck and pulled me close- Ms.An wanted morning snuggles. Just as we were getting comfortable, Ms.A walked in carrying a tray bearing this:

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She doesn’t know how to make tea, but tried her very best, just like her darling father πŸ™‚
She set the tray down on my bedside table and handed me her presents- A snowglobe that says – “I love you,Mum” and a pen that says ” Mum’s pen” but the most precious presents were these two notes: A hand made card and a hand written certificate

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I read the notes and all those tears that were threatening to spill out of my eyes, finally did. I hugged Ms.A close and listened to hear chat about how she picked my presents out of all the presents that were for sale at the Mother’s Day stall in school. Somehow Ms.An edged in between us, as she always does, but they were happy to stay like that for a long time. As for me, well..I was filled with this overwhelming amount of love, that always engulfs me when I am hugging them both and the feeling doesn’t get old, no matter how often I do it.I think I am so blessed to be able to hold them and love them like this. I feel so privileged that they call me ‘mumma’.

I am not perfect. I second guess almost every decision that I make- Am I being to stern or too lenient? Should I let them eat this or that? Should I let her go outside without a jacket, to spare the tears or should I stand my ground, make her wear it, even if it means, there will be a meltdown? Did I do the right thing in changing her school? Do you let her tough it out or help her find the easy way? The list goes on and on..

I recently read on Drama Mama (I swear she is sheer genius and
I absolutely L.O.V.E her posts!) something along the lines of ” Stop aiming for perfection and may be then you will appreciate how good you are ” and I thought, “Perfect! This will be my motto from now on”. But there is a major problem with that. I can’t stop at being just good, especially where my babies are concerned. You know why? Its because there is someone who is constantly judging me, judging my choices..That someone is ME! Yes, I am my worst critic.
So, I can’t settle for being good. And so I keep trying- trying my best to be perfect, because I don’t want to rue, ever, in life that I didn’t try enough. I keep going back for that last hug, even after the 3 yo pushes me away and throws another ‘hate you’ or ‘ don’t want you, want papa’ in my face, for what if that’s the hug that she returns? I keep dishing out the next meal, day after day, even after they reject the last 10, for what if that is the one that they end up loving? I keep explaining again and again, asking the 8 yo to tone down her attitude, frustrating as it is, but what if that is THE time that she actually pays heed? And you know what? THat one time is worth it. May be I am too soft..may be I am pushover and they know it. And I would be lying if I said they don’t push my buttons..they do..Oh MY GOD! They do! But then, they make up for it with all the love they shower me with, with all the happy moments I am privileged to share with them.

I love it how Ms.A, 8 years old, still believes that I have magic powers. She used to hate Wednesdays because they have sports at school on that day. So, every Wednesday, she tried to get out of school. One morning I told her that I was giving her special running powers that would make her run super-fast! And she believed it. She went to school with a spring in her step and later in the day told me how my powers worked. I love watching her face, when I can read her mind.. the joy and delight in her eyes..wow! It blows my mind away.

I love it how Ms.An, almost 4 years old, still follows me around. When I am cooking or trying to study, she drags a chair next to me and offers to help. When I am cleaning, she asks me to stop and relax. I love it, how I get kisses and cuddles, every time I put her in and take her out of her car-seat! EVERY SINGLE TIME!
I love it how eager, she is to make me happy. I love it how she knows when I am sad, and give me extra long cuddles.

Yes, it is exhausting and testing and I often complain how I have no brain-space left, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, because they make me happy!My babies make me happy! Happiness is being a mother to them…
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Oh! And as for the Mother’s Day that was- SP came back home that night and took us out for a lovely dinner. He had been away for 3 days and so the girls couldn’t get enough of him and watching them like that, was the perfect end to my day. πŸ™‚

xx
Trish

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