Thursday, 4 August 2011

Free gifts

Naveen screeched, a long shrieking, at the sight of me when I picked him up from daycare today. The Educator holding him laughed.

"I've never heard that come out of him before."

It was a heady mix of yearning and impatience. Come closer, the scream demanded, solve everything for me. Right now. I buried my face into his chubby warm neck. Snuggled into it. Heavenly joy of baby.

Already there are hints of a burgeoning toddler. He howls differently if a toy is out of reach, slams his tiny fists when the phone is taken away. And the few times I've said a firm NO, his lip quivered, the prelude to a cry so endearing, so delightful, I'd chance saying it again. 

Who will I be without a baby on my hip? How could these last four-ish years have the power to define me this succinctly, when I lived a lifetime of days before?

And yesterday I attended the final orientation for the upcoming schoolyear. I sat anxious, my stomach tight, diligently noting all that would need to be done.
  • Buy a proper lunchbox
  • Get a coat he can zip up himself
  • Stop allowing the soother!!
  • Teach him how to wipe himself on the toilet
  • And for God's sake teach him to write his name
I'm not the mother I thought I'd be. In some ways I've exceeded a few of my expectations. But I have had many failings. Everyday I remember to begin again. Because everyday is messy. I yell. I cut corners. I tune out. Remember that I can begin again.

Clean the kitchen again.

I listen to Deaglan's crackling-voiced lispy stories. Like when he told me last night that his head hurt.

"Mommy, I think there is pickle juice in there."

"Oh yeah? Is pickle juice good?"

"No Mommy, pickle juice goes through you and gives you a headache."

Huh. Similar to Shiraz?

And today, while he watched movies as I worked from home and kept the thermometer and Tylenol close by he gazed over at me and said,

"Mommy I sure do like your pretty shirt." And I looked down at my popsicle stained dingy oversized old tank top, smiled at this child, a gift I can't remember earning, and said,

"I love you too sweetheart."


  1. I love your writing. I love your heart. And your sweet child's too.

  2. You seem to always catch the feeling and emotion so nicely.

    Sounds like a lot to be ready for school. Yikes.

    T Rex has nearly all his name. I wish it had less letters. Those three letter names are looking better. And luckily, he has started wiping himself lately - that's nice. The coat - we would fail there, though.

  3. The fact that your wee boy can compliment you should be enough to truly show you that you have already accomplished a great deal as a mom! You are raising amazing, kind hearted boys. Spelling his name and wiping his bottom will come in least you know that he's going off to school with the most important tools! I've always loved the poem 'All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten'. Have you read it?

    p.s. - try to sit back, relax and enjoy all of your hard work with the boys...I guarantee...they'll put a huge smile on your face everytime!

  4. I know, we're getting ready for school here too. SO nervous. Your boys sound so sweet!

  5. Kim-this bit choked me up-

    "...this child, a gift I can't remember earning..."

    Almost 16 years later I still ask myself every day what I did to deserve Amy, and I still can't believe that there was a time in my life before her.

    Love this post Kim-love the pickle juice story too:) We mothers are so blessed:)

  6. Don't you just fall in love with him more with every adorable thing he says and does? He's wonderful!

  7. I love those sweet moments and thinking of a child as a gift I can't remember earning is so true. School can't be that close though We still have a few more weeks here. It will be here before we know it.

  8. Your heart pours out over each post. I'm honored to read your words. You're an inspiration to me in so many ways. And there are many messy emotional days of motherhood. I hear they stop when the kids are around 35! LOL.

  9. This was BEAUTIFUL...I kind of got choked up reading this. "Who will I be without a baby on my hip?"...I can so relate to this, I think about it often.

  10. even in the mess you always fine the clean spot. love it!

  11. Ah,those baby on the hip years! They surely do define you for a time, in a lovely way. And then merge into other sorts of parenting that will also define you.

  12. Oh Kim, this post brought tears to my eyes. They are so sweet. They are growing up. The fun is, there will be new tender memories to capture along the way. I promise...


Thanks for your comment!