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As you would guess, my very first blog post gets its topic from my everyday life, my every breathing moment, my joy, my little people-my darling children.
Going back to that first blood report telling me I am pregnant, to the morning sickness followed by the contractions and final birth of each child, Mitthu and Gudiya (as I call them). My relationship with them has definitely come a long way.
When they cried and screamed as babies, I was shocked to realize that such tiny beings could frustrate you to the point of crying too. Not that it doesn’t happen anymore!
I call them little people because even at the young age of 3.8 and 2, they can not only talk, but also feel and relate like grownups. We as humans fight for freedom from the time we enter this world. As babies we want the freedom to move our arms and legs, as toddlers to use those limbs to explore the world, as teenagers to try out new things, and finally as adults to lead our lives with no strings attached.
The concern and love that comes from my children is absolutely overwhelming! “Mamma, why aren’t you having milk? Even you sit and drink” and “Woww! I like your dress mamma.” Responses like these make the dullest day seem bright. I am absolutely in love with their cute comments!
In this beautiful age of my kids, I find in them so much innocence and love for me. They want to play with me, they want to imitate me as I go about my daily chores, and they also want to be held! This was conveyed the very first time I held them in my arms and has lasted till now, and hopefully this want will remain till my last breath.
I always loved children, but having two of my own was an achievement at a different level. It was like gaining ownership to two prime properties that no one could ever take from me. But oh! You want to beautify these darlings, give them your love, nurture them, and see them flourish into flawless glass. Strong enough to bare the winds but delicate enough to need handling with care.
They are like pieces of sponge wanting to absorb all that they see. Religion says the Almighty has entrusted us with their responsibility and they need to be handled with utmost care.. How often do I fail in doing so? How often have I caught myself losing my cool and feeling guilty and apologizing to them later? The answer would be, a thousand times..
Today as I was teaching my son to button and unbutton a shirt, I noticed how cutely his little fingers worked to learn the technique, how worried he looked when he got it wrong, and how his innocent eyes looked at me when he failed. I felt bad for him and wished I could teach him and be there for him in all walks of life. But that would just stunt his growth.
Having started school, I realize he has taken his first step to independence and his next few years will race past me. I am going to miss that tiny hand reaching out to me in the nights, the muffled cries I hear when he can’t find me, and the dejection he feels when I leave him to play on his own.
Though the younger one has a little more time, I know she will soon follow suit. I hate not having to carry her that often, the independence in her steps, the clarity in her speech- each making her grow a little more and her dependence on me a little less.
Their cute ways of talking can never escape my ears, those innocent tear- filled eyes questioning you for your anger, the tugging of your dupatta when you are cooking, and the screams demanding for your attention when you are on the phone. My darlings I wish I could explain to you that you’ll are my life!
I wish I could make you’ll stay little and fill my days with the warmth of your cuddles and happiness of your smiles! But as the song goes, “If only I could turn back time…”
I love you my little people and I am sorry for the tears I give you. The day you were born, I was born as a mother too. I’m still learning but will surely give you my best. To the shining stars of my life, this one’s for you’ll!