Today’s guest writer is a Franque’s Friday regular, as a reader. Her comments are usually to be read after every fatherWOOD post, so her contribution didn’t come as a surprise. Do read, enjoy and show her lots of love in the comments box.
I loved her immediately I knew about her. I prayed for her that instant with tears in my eyes and a goofy grin on my face. A few days later, I saw her on a screen, barely six weeks old but with a heart thumping so strongly already, and I fell in love all over again.
Many months later, at the end of a most intimate relationship, I held her in my arms. She was so beautiful, so complete and all mine; my beautiful Nwando.
A year and nine months later, I discovered the heart’s immense capacity to love; its expansion to accommodate even more. For the second time, I discovered that such a tiny, little one could hold my heart so completely. And I loved, yet again. This time, my oh-so-cute son, Ikemsinachi.
Being a mother is HARD work if you do it right. How does one person handle all that uncomplicated trust and unconditional love without messing it up and without taking it for granted? How does one previously ‘selfish’ individual become one who hardly sleeps, gets to dry the tears and clean up the mess AND still has to look amazing? How is it possible that just the sight of a little one sitting for the first time would make you so proud? And how does that first real smile from that tiny face let you know that there is still a lot of good in the world?
Only the grace of God, a special kind of love and the courage to do the right thing make all that possible.
My children are sweet, without a doubt, but there are times when I can swear that their sole aim is to make sure they force some grey hair on me. Today was such a day.
Back from school and not yet used to that schedule, after a long break, Nwando transformed to this tantrum-throwing, crying child. All for no other reason than being completely exhausted. All this drama and fuss from a girl who had just given me a hug earlier and told me, “Mummy, I love you a whooooooole lot and to the moon and back”. This Jekyll/Hyde transformation always amazes me. She eventually got a time-out in a corner. Trust me, this is not an oyibo thingy. The threat of a time-out, I have recently discovered, gets my daughter to re-consider a decision to be stubborn. She does love to talk, like mummy, so a time-out, spent alone and in silence, works better than a spank (for both of us).
To spank or not to spank? Story for another day.
Ikem was tired too but fought sleep with everything he had. He has recently learnt how to throw tantrums too. Daddy wasn’t home (how I sorely wished he was at this point). He has these patient, ‘manly’ chats with his son that calms him. Ikem eventually allowed me strap him with a wrapper on my back and sing him to sleep (He just loves songs and dance; they both do). New generation mama, or nay, it works big time.
They are both asleep. That’s why I am able to write this now. Soon, they’ll both be awake and the house will be filled with their sounds again. But, there’d be peace in my world, because they would both be rested and ready to hug and kiss mummy again. My house is a home because they are in it.
Ikem just called out now. “Mama”, he cries. He’s awake. My heart swells with such joy. He is my son, one of God’s most precious gifts to me.
Of all that I am destined to be, being a mother is definitely one of the most PRICELESS.
Written by OLAEDO
P.S: This is not a cop out, there will be the regular Friday post, this will go up at 12noon.
Clue: fatherWOOD. (Here is the link to Franque’s Fatherwood for today: Just The Two Of Us.)