This time last year…

I CANNOT believe it is ALREADY October! October people… Where did the last year go? At the end of the month my lil cherub will be a year old… 1 YEAR OLD! It is maddeningly clichéd & scary how quickly time flies. It was this time last year I was having my last day at work and was nervous/hesitant/excited for the arrival of our little girl.

I remember the last 4 weeks of my pregnancy; I wasn’t that woman exclaiming “I’ve had ENOUGH, get this baby outta me!” but rather I think in the last 6 weeks I discovered that I LOVED being pregnant and having this human inside of me moving, playing, responding to my touch. I had so many melancholy moments where I wished I could keep her attached to me for ever… it was only really in the last week where I really felt huge, where going from a sitting position to standing required effort and I had to ‘hold’ the bottom of my belly if I stood up for too long.

I look at Amira now and I am amazed how fast she’s growing and am so hopeful for her and our lives together as a family. At the back of my mind there are so many fears that I have – will she realise how much I love her? Please let her be God-fearing, kind and good to her parents… will she realise the importance of education and constantly strive to better herself?

She’s 11 months now and I can already see little bits of personality shine through; how (for the most part) she is a pretty ‘cruisey’ child – she’s not fazed by much and is quite relaxed about most things; she’s not easily agitated and has always been placid. She’s an observer; when we get together for mothers group I notice how the other little girls are far more ‘rough and tumble’ – they attack toys and jump straight into ‘giving things a go’. Amira will watch them, observe then then decide from there. She’ll hold a toy and REALLY look at it; pass it from one hand to the other and then play with it. She seems to be a quiet, persistent achiever – I’ve noticed this on more than one occasion but it was never more evident than when she learned how to stand herself up against the sofa. She’s a happy baby but doesn’t laugh at everything – she makes you work for her laughter which I find so enduring.

Even as I type all that I can see her so clearly in my mind’s eye; as though I am in my living room and am watching her play with her toy Dora kitchen (and not sitting in my TV room while she’s sleeping for the night), I get all teary just thinking about how much I love her (I know, SO LAME!).

 

feeling troubled….

In the last 2-ish weeks or maybe that’s 3 actually I have to admit that I have been infected by the bug that is Zumba. I am loving it – maybe not LOVING it when I am in the middle of it (when I am huffing and puffing and sore and hot the last word that comes to mind is love. In fact, truth be told I am anxiously awaiting for the hour to be over!) but when its all over and I am on the way home and i’ve gotten my breath back I feel engerised and happy and satisfied with myself that I am getting into shape.

My lust for Zuma is so high right now that I am going between 2 to 3 times per week… madness isn’t it? But last night I must admit something – I ditched zumba.

Why? Because I was feeling down. Because my mum gets back this Sunday. Because I am at a point where I have no idea where to go from here (in relation to her). That I am beyond the point of trying – that I just want it (or me) to just be able to go away. That because as fast as I know she will walk through the arrival’s lounge I want to get her straight back into the departures lounge.

And I am thinking about it constantly now. And I am hating myself for all of this. Hating my thoughts, disliking that the only relationship I have with my mum is dysfunctional (at best).

Hating that I love her with all my heart but that I don’t like her.

Just wanting to pick her up – not say a word. Take her home and her into the house and then walk out. And go to where I feel at home which is not there.

The end is near…

My mum’s return is imminent… seriously – where did this time go? She is scheduled to return to Aussie-land on the 27th of December… and I am left feeling bereft and torn by the mounting ocean of emotion that is threatening to engulf me!

I feel shit… there is no other word for it really; bad, terrible… these do not even begin to explain the feeling. I feel like utter crap because her return is imminent and I am wishing that she would call me to say she’s extending her stay. See? I am a bad daughter!

Its not that I don’t love her – I know that it sounds like an oxymoron; saying that I wish she’d be away longer whilst in the same breath saying that I love her but it is genuinely true. I love my mum; I know that everything she has done and will do is because in HER mind it is the best thing for me. She’s raised me to the best of her ability and I don’t think I turned out too bad and she did it all by herself. Growing up I had and continue to remember and ocean full of memories; of us chatting together, going to the movies and shopping, of mum showing me how to cook dishes and bake cakes, of teaching me to sew and taking me to swim classes, of birthday parties and matching mother-daughter outfits (I know – seriously lame!). I remember telling her about the boys I had a crush on, about going through court when my parents divorced; of watching her cry every single Eid because it was always just the 2 of us. Of her telling me that it didn’t matter that I was different from everyone else in school and that no matter what I was her little princess and that she loved me as much as any mummy and daddy could.

And yet here we are… years later… and I love her… and I want to make her happy… but I don’t really like her much. We don’t understand each other any more… we have a profound language barrier – and yet we actually speak the same language! She doesn’t want to “hear” anymore and over the years I have become tired of trying… and so our conversations are now fake; they aren’t real – they are nothing… I call her every couple of days and in reality it’s as though I am dropping dollars into the ocean.

Where did it go? Where did my mum disappear to?