First my daughter, forever my friend

We talk, we care and we fight only to make up again for there is no bond as beautiful as that of a mother and daughter.

Since the day she was born, we have been together, wrapped in a warm cocoon of love that binds me to her in a way I have never known before. I have cradled her in my arms, my little bundle of joy who gave me sleepless nights in her early years. Those first few years were difficult with the constant demands of a newborn. Those first few years, I was happy and grumpy by turns, so thrilled to have her, but sore about losing my carefree days.

A mother, a wife and a professional, I struggled to meet conflicting demands of my roles. It wasn’t easy to maintain that precarious balance, it wasn’t easy to be present everywhere. Everything moved, albeit at a slow pace. After a short leave of three months, I rejoined my job, and then began the struggle to move bit by bit towards my old self. The little one had to learn to live without mommy for a few hours.

It was back to those rushed mornings, when you needed to put everything into place so that the little girl was taken care of in your absence. She cried, she whined, and later fell into a rhythm of life where she knew she would be fine, and mommy would be back soon.

After she started school, things eased a little bit and she loved her newfound friends. The tantrums, the teething troubles, the infections, all went hand in hand with schooling, and we learnt to lean on each other. The trifling fights, the boundless love and the constant struggle to learn, to mould ourselves, to adjust to each other carried on.

Now that she is eight, she is more calm and balanced (more than me). And she knows a lot about me and vice-versa. She knows I love reading and writing, she helps me choose books, she scans the covers, asks me about the wonderful stories I read, the meanings, the connotations. And I read to her, the books she wants me to.

I try not to overcrowd her mind with my demands. I know she doesn’t want to be disturbed when she is colouring or scribbling or doing her own art projects. I know when she needs my help, she will ask for it. So some days we are both doing our own thing without interfering in each other’s domains.

We share a mutual understanding and respect. We have our fights, but now we both make an effort to reach an agreement, and we make lists of things to be done and undone.

My daughter forms a beautiful part of my life and we know that we will be there for each other. We don’t dwell on our roles, for we know we are the best of friends, and yet we have to move on our own paths in a subtle way. We are connected yet our individual selves.

I TRY NOT TO OVERCROWD HER MIND WITH MY DEMANDS. I KNOW SHE DOESN’T WANT TO BE DISTURBED WHEN SHE IS COLOURING. I KNOW WHEN SHE NEEDS MY HELP, SHE WILL ASK FOR IT