My Dearest Rice Cake and Mochi Monster,
So you’re now 5 and 3 respectively, you can feed and dress yourselves, you can both go to the toilet yourselves (not in public places of course) and you do a really good job brushing your teeth. You still want me to sit by your bed until you fall asleep and especially you little Mochi Monster, you still wake up at night and once in a while, you snuggle in with me, kick me in the face and steal my pillow.
Both of you no longer worry about Mummy and Papa leaving you at school or dropping you off at holiday clubs. In fact, Rice Cake, I’m so proud at the way you look after Mochi Monster, by taking her hand and leading her away….away from me. And now when the babysitter comes over during date night, you wave goodbye to us instead of crying and clutching to our legs, like little octopuses.
Where has the time gone?
Why does my heart feel achy…?
What is this panicky feeling I have in my chest?
Rice Cake, I confess I’ve cried every time your teacher at school talks to me and tells me what a lovely little girl you are. You are kind and helpful and you are my little sunshine, always so ready with your cheery smile and selflessness.
Mochi Monster, you’ve got such spirit and you make me laugh with your jokes and your many expressions. Every time you stage your rebellion, I just want to hug you close and tell you life really isn’t that bad.
I try to pretend that I’m happy you don’t need me so much anymore. Maybe part of me is….I have more time to find myself again but truth is, I don’t want you to grow up. I don’t want you to become sulky teenagers. I don’t want you to wake up one day and realise that this world is horrible and that terrible things happen and that there’s not really a happily ever after. I don’t want you to see the hate, the evil, the envy, the malice, the ugliness of reality.
I know I’m in denial. I know it’s my job to show you the good and the bad and help you see the difference and remind you that you always have a choice. So for now, please forgive me if I hug you just a little tighter and just a little longer every single day whilst I still can. Please forgive me if I give you a hundred thousand kisses a day (I know saliva on the face can be pretty gross).
I just want you to stay little for a little longer.
Love always, Mummy.