My beautiful strong-willed little man,
It’s seven forty-five, Friday night and you’re deep, deep asleep, dreaming sweet dreams and smiling to yourself. It’s been a long day today, and an even longer week; the best of weeks, the hardest of weeks.
This week, Baba and I couldn’t be prouder of the independence you have shown mashAllah. Every evening for the past five short nights, you’ve slept in your bedroom all alone like a grown up toddler-boy, waking only once now for a cuddle and then back to sleep. You wake without a sound, rendering the monitor redundant at night, patter gently through to our room and walk round the bed to my side to collect me, to take you back and tuck you in. The sight of you walking so confidently from room to room past midnights hour, secure in the knowledge that we’ll be there once you reach the other door, has brought a tear to my eye every night this past first week. It’s taken everything I have to guide you backwards instead of scooping you into our bed, Babyone; I love to hold you still. Once you’re safely back in slumber – water sipped, not even having asked to breastfeed while falling asleep – I’ve sat and absorbed you..the curls even the most defiant of bedhead can’t rid, the scrunch of your fingers, tight into a loose little ball, your sock-less baby feet, one on top of each other all the night…and wondered again, as so often, how I came to be so blessed to be given the gift of you into my life.
And then daybreak has come and the peace of the night-time has fallen away, well, days have been rougher this week. Striking out in independence is tough going for you right now and I understand, am trying to respect this, but Babyone, please: Stop with the screeching please, pretty please? Activities you became immersed in last week, this week no longer hold their interest. You have no concentration for books, no interest in drawing or painting and puzzles or building blocks are just trinkets to be thrown. This has made for hard days as we try to balance needs with wants, retain composure in the heat of screaming fits and maintain eye-contact as I reassure you I love you nonetheless.
Through morning come evening, the days have been a test for us both, individually and as a pair and though at times it’s seemed not destined to be so, I’d say we’ve passed still. Patience – the combination of tolerance and endurance combined – is a lesson we both need to brush up on and as your Mum, I feel this duty ever so and this week’s taught me some tips for gaining this patience — tips you may find useful, MKM, because life will test patience in many ways.
Be present in the moment you’re in; the one coming will wait for a while
In the mornings, take time to look at the clouds, to reconnect with the lining you’ve painted inside. Later when your patience is tested, look up and unlock the picture you saw.
Before a sigh, try to smile; you lips absorb the breathe.
When you want to scream, start to sing a song instead…shout the lyrics super loudly and spin with arms out by your sides and if you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror doing this, it’s ok to laugh back at the image you see smiling at you.
This phase that you’re in now, because it really is a phase, will pass soon Babyone. Inshallah pass very soon. And when it passes, we’ll resume painting hour and cosy book snuggle time and daily competitions to see who can build the highest plastic brick tower but until then, we’ll take time out with nursery rhyme videos instead, spend extra hours in bathtubs or sinks, place hands side by side rather than wrapped round each other; that’s all ok, Babyone; it’s ok to feel angry, and sad, and frustrated, and plain old grumpy with me, that’s what I’m here for after all, and I’m going nowhere because patience, or no patience, we’re stuck together like glue.
Love, Mummy x