If we were having coffee I would tell you that I like the way you’ve done your hair today and it’s so good to be able to sit with you peacefully at last. I crave ‘Me-time’ nowadays, especially since my day just flashes past following a one-year old around the house and being careful that he is not swallowing mud. I find myself in bed at night, staring at the ceiling with husband to the right and baby to the left, utterly grateful for them both but also very happy to be alone with my thoughts for the first time in the day. That would the only uninterrupted adult conversation I would be having in those 24 hours. So, sitting here in this café, talking to you alone, with no toddler to follow around feels strange. I feel nervous and nostalgic. This warm, freshly brewed cappuccino in my hand feels like manna from the Gods. And this conversation will mostly be about my little one, but maybe we can also talk about current affairs. You can update me about what’s going on around the world without judging me. I don’t get to read the paper or watch the news.
Can we also gossip for a bit? I miss that. I also miss lazy afternoons spent reading. And weekends where there are no errands to run. Did I tell you that my husband and I haven’t stayed up to watch a movie in bed? Sorry, I sound like I’m complaining too much. Honestly, I’m just rambling. Don’t pay much attention please. I should also tell you that one-year olds give the sweetest kisses out of the blue when you least expect it. The other day my mum was combing my hair and he pulled the comb out of her hand so he could do it instead. Can you imagine the warm fuzzies that had me swallowed in?
Yes, I have traded a coffee and adult conversation for a cold cup of tea heated three times and absolute gibberish of a dialogue, but I am the happiest I have been in these 34 years on God’s green earth. I have known love like never before. Earlier, my love was a passionate, throbbing, ‘I-can’t-imagine-life-without-you’, sexy kind, one that kept me content. Now my love is a mature, understanding, how-did-I-live-before-you-came-along kind. I like myself more with this kind of love. And there will be time again for a warm cup of joe and soulful conversations with you in a few years. In the meanwhile I’m going to live in the present moment, in the warm embrace of a pair of chubby arms.