My Son, My Treasure

The first prompt for Write Tribe Festival of Words is ‘My Biggest Treasure’. For me, my son, is undoubtedly my biggest treasure. It honestly feels great to start the festival writing about my son.

The regular readers of my blog are aware of the fictional Pablo Stories (Pablo is Born, Pablo on a Plane) that I write occasionally. These stories are based on my son. They are written from his perspective, the way he sees the world. However, this is the first time that I am writing an entire non-fiction post on him. While writing, I am also realizing that fiction is far easier for me, as I am literally struggling to jot down my emotions in this non-fiction.

I sincerely admire the mommy bloggers who have entire blogs dedicated to their child/children, where they write about their parenting journeys, milestones, goals and also advice other parents on tips and tricks of parenting. I love reading their posts but never really wrote or even thought of writing my own.

Many women in my generation are not keen on becoming a mother. I respect their decisions. Parenting is a huge responsibility and if one is not confident or willing it is best not to have a child. However, I wanted to become a mother since I was in kindergarten. I was not keen on getting married but always wanted a child whom I could call my own. I had wanted to adopt a child even before I got married. Children always bring happiness and thus becoming a mother was the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

When I saw my son for the first time, I felt I was the happiest woman. A nurse came and showed him to me. He was wrapped in a hospital towel, his face was pink and his lips had the color of rose, he had black hair and to me he was the most beautiful sight on earth. It took me some time to believe that this beautiful bundle of joy was mine, only mine (The father obviously had partial ownership).

It took me time to get used to him. As a new mother, I had my moments of desperation, anxiety, impatience, indignation and overwhelm. Yet, there was no dearth of love. Slowly, I learnt the tricks. Now, after eight and a half years he is not only my son but also my best teacher. I have learnt a lot from him in all these years. I have learnt forgiveness and unadulterated love from him. He taught me how to put someone else’s life in front of my own. He taught me how to stay calm when things are going out of hands.

My son is hyperactive but extremely inquisitive. He keeps talking about his dreams. When he was around three years old he came to me and said ‘Mamma, I want to be a valet driver when I grow up.’ I was quite surprised at this unusual ambition but he justified that the valet driver has the best job in this whole world because he gets to drive so many different types of cars through the day from Audi, Mercedes, BMW to Tata Nano. I agreed he had a point.

Then last year he upgraded his ambition and told me that he wanted to become a car designer. He loves to configure the luxury cars. However, these days he is obsessed with Lego. He loves making things using Lego blocks and I must admit he is quite innovative. He is generally innovative and loves to break and make things all over the house.

When he was a toddler, I often used to get irritated as he was a clingy child. He used to not even let me go to the washroom. Even now, he loves to be around me. He still refuses to sleep alone and is unable to fall asleep until he hugs me tight. I am almost like a side pillow for him to fall asleep. He often asks me not to lose weight as skinny mothers; according to him are not ‘good pillows’.

The other day he nonchalantly said ‘Mamma, I will keep 10 books next to your grave so that you do not get bored inside.’ He knows that his mother is a bibliophile and this was his solution for his mom. Macabre probably, but I don’t mind reading books even inside my grave.

I can keep on writing about him but I think it would be better if I stop here. As I am getting emotional while writing and that is not a good thing.

I am linking this post to Write Tribe Festival of Words #6