We have just started our last full seven-day week here in England. Chaos is ruling and it sometimes feels as if every single thing which can go wrong, is. Some decisions still need to be taken and last minute alterations are occurring. I feel as if I am drowning at times, my days are full of list-making and jotting down notes in my diary. Circumstances are not helping. Potential house-buyers have now started to mix up appointment dates and times it seems. The awful grey English weather is now hitting me hard and my headache never seems to cease. Cesca seems to have a bit of a cold and is coughing and waking up freezing cold at night. Small things. But added up, they seem to do grave damage to the mind and spirit.
And amidst all this craziness going on, I’m finding moments of stillness. I now find myself seated on the sofa. There is absolute quiet because C is sleeping. She is due to wake up any minute now and the moment that happens, my zen calm will be shattered. But until then I am sipping a glass of water and thinking. Thinking of what’s been and what will be. Thinking that I will most probably never have these moments ever again. Moments of the three of us, all alone, living our life and setting our own pace. Days at end when C is my only company, when she gets to be my listening-board, my audience and my confidante. She does not complain or protest for having to put up with me every single day. A and myself are her only constants, and I truly cherish that. I may be selfish, but whenever we do have company, I get a very satisfactory feeling deep down inside whenever I see her looking out for us, catching our eyes and see her light up with joy and love. My heart seems to tighten up and I very nearly burst out with all my love.
How lucky this little munchkin is. She has two parents who would walk to the end of the earth for her. She has everyone wrapped around her little finger and she is the protagonist wherever we go. I get to see her grow up and become a little girl. She is a baby no more. Her language is expanding at an alarming rate, and we are being constantly copied, both in words and gestures. She names all the animals she sees, counts to number ten by herself (except for number five which she sometimes skips) and is now learning her colours. She has her little habits – she will grab her ‘buddy’ (dummy) and Baba and start playing with her ear whenever it’s time to sleep. It is just like an invisible and automatic switch going on. When she wakes up from her nap, she needs to spend a couple of minutes in the quiet before properly waking up. She insists on sucking her dummy upside down. Whenever we’re out for a walk, she insists on walking the opposition direction to where we are headed – and she will scream ‘walk walk’ whenever we carry her up (those reins mentioned a couple of weeks ago – nah, they just make her worse!) She giggles and says ‘pfff’ whenever we change her nappy…and then proceeds to kick like crazy when we try and put a clean change on. Her favourite toys at the moment are her coloured pencils and her toothbrush. Yes toothbrush – definitely a dentist’s daughter!
I know her every move and can understand every look she gives me. I comprehend every word she says and every gesture she makes. Her giggles and laughs melt my heart and her cries break it. I’m at her constant beck and call, and my days are no longer my own. Whatever we do and wherever we go, she is the one we think of first and her needs are attended to immediately. Saturday and Sunday mornings have an early start and our TV/mobile phones/iPad are not our own anymore. She paints on the floor and walls, spits food one minute and eats it the next, she drives me up the wall when she’s in a stroppy mood and insists on drinking from an adult cup only to then pour it all over herself.
And I will miss these intimate moments with her. It will never be just us three anymore. I will love having family around, I can never thank them enough for their help and support, and I know that not being together all the time will help both me and C. But I know certain times will come when I’d give anything for a brief time-out and be somehow transported back to this life where it’s just us three. To be in this house, on this sofa, sipping some water and being my daughter’s everything, and she mine.