Letter to Shivansh on your eight birthday

Dearest cuddly bear,

Happy 8th Birthday!

You will be squished, kneaded, and snuggled no matter how much you hate it. My gifted child, you make me proud. Of course, you draw so well, but you are such a sharp visual learner. You are always drawing things you find interesting and things that get your attention. However, the issue is finding a piece of your drawing sneaked in every corner of the house.

With a deep sense of music, you have a knack for rhythm, love to tango, and make us laugh. As much as I sort of like the character you introduced, Bendy, the protagonist of the horror game series, I worry and wonder if it’s normal for someone your age to enjoy something so dark and grim.

As you laugh out loud as though there’s no tomorrow, I wish your liveliness is not lost to discipline, rules, and senseless benchmarks. Isn’t it ironic that we push you to follow the rules and chase more marks? We, unfortunately, live in a place that gauges the superficial and punishes if you’re naïve.

Let’s get outdoorsy, laugh more, be funny, hocus and focus, and not get lost in the futile race to achieve more. And just because you're not expressive (other than the time you wish to poop), doesn't mean you are loved any less. You are crazily loved, valued, and cherished every single microsecond.

From a mom who wishes you live life to the fullest knowing who you truly are! 

Shilpa

  

 

 

Letter to Shreya on your eight birthday

 My mush machine,

You learned the F word this year. While you obviously don’t understand the meaning, you definitely know it shouldn’t be spoken.

Happy Birthday, my sugar ball.

Lately, there's been a role reversal in the snuggling department as you pull my cheeks, hug often, and give frequent pecks as though I were your child.

Was it a decade back that I wholeheartedly prayed for babies, and isn’t that what I prepared for? I didn’t prepare for the arsenal shot at me these days dressed as a barrage of whys in response to the most minor requests. Despite the several parenting reels that I consume every single day, why is it that when a pre-teen attacks you with a tantrum or a retort, I convulse into the monstrous mom?

I find myself torn in opposite directions as one version struggles to keep you in babydom while the other wishes you were more independent and self-reliant. The baby mom cuddles you so tight, hoping you never go away, so close that you wouldn’t even think about it. And yes, I will eat your lil’ edible nosey one day.

You are a smart missy who loves to sleep and hates to eat. Not the typical girl but it seems you exist with the sole ambition of controlling how your brother walks, sleeps, writes, and responds. Both of your personalities are so codependent that I can’t imagine what you would both be when apart.

Sorry for putting you under academic pressure. I give in. I must work harder this year to help you find something that you absolutely love to do. I’d like to believe you savor the language, but I don’t want to imagine things or force them on you.  

Let’s make it right this year since time is passing quickly. Enjoy this day, which is the most special one for me. 

Love beyond love from your petrified mom who detests you grow so quickly,

Shilpa