Every year just before your birthday, I compulsively go through a plethora of emotions. Year after year, reliving the moments when you arrived, rolling your eyes, looking dazed and amazed, while being bounced around by paternal and maternal elders.
My emotions have always been quite quirky; either too early or too late. Late they were, 13 years back too. They sneaked in hours after you arrived, perhaps when I had you, all to myself giving me a questioning look as if asking, ‘Lady – are you supposed to be my Mom?’ And then they unplugged and have been pouring out non stop till date. In these 13 years of being a mother, every year I’ve fondly written about your big and small milestones and how much I’ve myself grown with each of yours. This year as I pick up the pen, it refuses to pen about the little boy tugging on to me and urges me to be fairly honest.
Here I am, not writing about the baby in my lap , anymore. It is about my husband’s new buddy. Not sure when, but somewhere in this year you’ve taken a flight out of my lap flanking your father as you reach his shoulders. Arms in arms, I see both of you walking new paths, following new found passions and indulging in fearless adventures that I’m trying hard getting used to. Lest I forget, how you both gang up when I am at my nagging best. The rolling of those eyes and the exchange of some amused glances, that I so often pretend to have missed. When you mimic your father and urge me to chill in his tone, I cannot miss the father beaming sheepishly. No wonder, he has a new buddy and this mother has two brats to handle.
From the Papa who was not to be told a lot of secrets that Mama and baby shared, I can see two partners in crime making plans in hush-hush tones and holding on to announce them strategically when mommy’s mood is at her brightest. I hear conversations become whispers as I enter the room unannounced and can sense some mutual plotting that is underway.
From a hands-on and a hands-full mom, I am suddenly finding myself with some free space and time. Nevertheless, confused at times whether I should be enjoying this newfound space, sit back and smile at the baton being passed or sulk a little and throw some weight around. From tending to a child and a hubby, I am suddenly midst two young men in my life. One, a teenager and the other who has just got back to his teens again with his son. A big corner of my heart is relishing this new bonding to the hilt, while the other handles the little vacuum that raises its head once in a while.
From a timid child, who would sob in my lap at the slightest scratch for days and seek attention, to setting up challenges and enduring to overcome them, I know what exactly, walking out of my lap has done to this touchy and delicate baby of mine.This emotional mother, on numerous occasions struggles not to let flow what wells up proudly in the corners of her eyes. When I lose out on the logic you embed in your arguments and fumble for words, I see images of my self in you. Midst looking for images of my own self and your father in you, I have started feeling the lovely presence of a fine young man who has a mind, identity and choices of his own. Moments, when I know its time to let go bit by bit.
At the end of each day, as you insist that I tuck you in your bed with a nice peck, I suddenly realise that the baby is still around. He is just shooting up and lapping up the wonderful new experiences and emotions that teenage is dishing out. It’s too tempting to hover over but I got to sit back and enjoy watching him explore his beautiful new space.
On the flight through your teens. Seat belts fastened and seats upright!.
Happy 13 th!
P.S. From my diary, on my son’s 13 th birthday. In case you found a connect, your comment shall warm my heart!