Dear Little Swan,
I put you on my back and turned on the famous Jazz playlist. You like music and holding you against my heart in your little carrier made you such a wonderful dance partner. You were not sure about giving me your hand, so I let it drop and embraced you. We danced cheek to cheek and I felt in heaven.
I hadn’t planned this moment of joy. I only wanted free hands to make myself lunch and you were grumpy, wanted to be held. I looked outside and I made a decision: from now on, it’s no longer you or I. We will find a way to make it work for both of us. I won’t put my needs aside to accommodate yours. I have done that too often too much and I notice how I am slowly diminishing inside.
Your laughter as we danced with the music made my heart melt. I have been missing that connection so busy that I was playing Mother. In truth, I don’t want to play Mother anymore. I don’t want to play any role. Or rather, I’ll PLAY and not fall into the role.
I am your mother and I am very honoured to be so and I decide today to take off that skin of Motherhood that meant for me to sacrifice myself, to be on the clock, any time of the day or the night, to put myself on the shelf. In a way, you don’t want such a Mother. There is unconditional love and there is education.
I have come to realise that education meant for me to hold space for you so you discover your limits, the places that hurt, the pain of crying and facing your fears and not taking these experiences away from you. I will be by your side in these moments and you will learn that you are powerful. You are still a baby and there is a moment when you leave the womb after you have birthed.
This moment is now. After the dance, you fell asleep and I could hear you breathe at the rhythm of the music and then at the beat of my heart. I entered infinity watching you sleep against me and surrender. I remembered what an old neighbour told me years ago about her daughter she would watch sleeping at night. She said: “I know I shouldn’t, but it’s so magical to stay and watch her sleep”.
At the time, I couldn’t understand why she shouldn’t. It’s such a privileged moment to watch our little Swans sleep so deeply, so innocently. Today, I make sense of what she said. It’s not that we shouldn’t enter timelessness with our kids but we also need to remember that we can’t live there and we are the parents, so it’s our job to return with them back to Earth.
I live at your rhythm and yet I don’t loose mine. You also live at my rhythm and slowly it’s time to adapt more and more to each other. If I would lose my connection to the ground and to myself, you also loose it. That realisation sets the beginning of a new phase in my relationship with you Little Swan and I am pleased about this new phase.