Dear Christopher,
I've been a bit quiet in my writing in the last few months.
I've been trying to recover from a flu/chest infection /cold sort of thing since sometime in January and it keeps coming back and challenging me in so many ways. It's been about 3 months now and I am doing my best to surrender to whatever it is my body is telling me, learn whatever lesson is there and make the necessary changes. But sometimes the frustration and negativity win and I get overwhelmed.
It's no coincidence that it was January that I started juggling two jobs to bring some more stability into our lives, but my efforts have been somewhat counter productive.
Deep down inside I'm longing for more playfulness in myself as well in our connection, but all the juggling has stifled every ounce of motivation to do the things I used to enjoy so much, like dancing and writing. In my heart I know those would potentially give me much more stability and mental health than the 'safe' and 'predictable' jobs I am trying my hardest to keep going, but so far my ego voice has been slightly more overpowering than my loving one.
The dark night of the soul so to speak came halfway through our Easter holidays, when despite all my efforts to spend quality time with you and to create happy memories together, we have ended up both having massive outbursts with each other and I'm looking for comfort and understanding in pouring it into my writing.
Last night after some very big feelings from both of us throughout the day, I said to you at our kitchen table, that both you and I had witnessed a lot of anger when we were little, and it wasn't your fault and it wasn't mine either...
You asked me why I was crying... I said because when you were growing in my tummy I had such powerful and loving intentions of being a kind and patient mummy to you, of being playful and fun and so different to how I remember my childhood... Yet here we were arguing a lot and not hearing each other, experiencing more frustration than joy, or so it seemed. You looked back at me quietly, taking it all in.
Afterwards you asked me to go upstairs and play tickle attack with you, so we goofed about chasing each other which made you giggle a lot. I sometimes battle in my head with thoughts of inadequacy when I hear how much fun you have with daddy and I question whether I'm as fun as I'd like to be with you.
After one of your giggles you turned and looked at me and said 'see mummy, your wish to be the best mummy did come true after all!' There are simply no words to express how affirming that moment felt after the roller-coaster of the last few days, month, years...
Later on in the evening we decided to build a den, a skill I had mastered as a child. I used to find great joy in taking my grandparents sofas apart and creating safe havens for myself to watch old black and white Hungarian films from.
If ever a night required a safe haven it was last night so we got busy gathering sheets and cushions. We were chatting away and you said something to which my reply was that you were very clever. You went on to say you got that from Daddy. I smiled and asked you curiously what you got from me. To which your response was giving me the biggest kiss and cuddle and said 'this, mummy' and my heart melted.
We read our bedtime story in the den, your favourite You Choose book, and we both slept through the night peacefully.
This morning my body was still not quite at the energy level as what I felt you expected from me so we still managed to achieve a few louder words and the odd slamming of doors, after which I discovered the most beautiful drawing on your desk, and it touched my heart beyond words...
I also need to share that last night I dreamed about movement and about how the juggling of all the hectic threads will weave itself beautifully into the one rope of healing dance.
