Letter To My Daughters | February 25th 2013

Dear girls,

It is February. The time of the year that is the least busy for me usually in terms of work. But with this new venture (the studio), I have been busy getting all the ducks lined up in a row. Which means that I have been a bit of a ghost in your lives. I didn’t take any photographs of you two with my big camera this month.. so I have a camera phone photo to share.. both of you were home sick the first week in February.

Is this what being a full time working mom is like? The quick kiss goodbye in the morning, the skipping the after-school pickup so I can get 15 extra minutes of work in and having you come home in the bus? Not having lunch with you in school from time to time? Not having time to watch you play outside because I am kicking up my feet and having a cup of tea, exhausted from the day? Not making that cake I said I would make for your birthday, to share with your neighbourhood friends. Forgetting to sign that permission slip. Not finding time to iron on your girl scout patches. And where is that sash anyway? Not making your beds and arranging your guys just-so knowing that you get a giggle out of seeing them when you come home.

I have to be honest, the anxiety I feel from this new venture coupled with the guilt of being the shadow of what I could be as a mother is very very hard. I just see the trees, not the forest. The big picture feels like a puzzle made up of ten thousand pieces, something that I can’t put together unless I had lots and lots of time. Sweet girls, sometimes I wake up with a feeling that I have made such a big mistake. I have always and foremost just wanted to be mom, ever since I can remember. I am just not doing that swell of a job anymore. Please forgive me. We are not signing up for spring activities, and I have not even thought about what fun to have with you two over spring break. I lose sleep at night because our summers may no longer be carefree, where we do whatever catches our fancy.

If I slow down and breathe, I know the whys. I grinned ear to ear to see you so excited about mummy’s new ‘shop’. But that excitement has died down and now I hear you groan when I say we have to go to the studio for a little bit because I need to finish up some work. And your groans feel selfish in that moment and annoy me because I just want to say loudly, ‘I am doing this for you guys too you know!‘ . You are too little to understand right now. I hope one day you do and this time in our lives is not the time you look back on say, ‘yeah, that is when my mother decided we were less important than her work‘. It will never be true my loves. I promise. But I want to do this one thing, run this successful business, give it my all and as a byproduct make enough money to travel the world with you, to help you fulfill all your dreams, to make you proud. Forgive me in the meanwhile for falling way short of the mark as your mother. I love you both to the moon and back. To infinity and beyond. I hope you know that always my sweet girls.

Kisses and hugs, Mummy.

Please follow our monthly blog circle of letters… next up is the talented Debbie Wibowo¬†whose photographs and words are both beautiful.

7 thoughts on “Letter To My Daughters | February 25th 2013”

  1. You used to make their beds *every day*? Over-achiever. :) I’m no expert but I feel quite confident your daughters will be better off having a mom who chased her dreams. The sacrifices are never easy, though.

  2. oh rashmi…this month has seemed to hit all of us in the same place. i am only half way through the circle and 3 of us have written about our own silly opinions of ourselves being less than perfect…but what i have realized, what i realized while writing my letter is that what we as their mommy’s see and what they as our babies see is so far apart. To them you are chasing a dream and showing them a way, you are teaching them that life is about minor sacrifies and big goals, to them YOU ARE PERFECTLY IMPERFECT, to them you are what LOVE is! dont judge yourself by your standards of unattainable perfection my friend, feel proud of the reflection of love in their eyes!

  3. rashmi, i think you struck a nerve here that is simply human. we could all fill in the blanks with all sorts of stories and shame and questions and wondering, tears and frustrations and even victories. you are trying. and therein lies the beauty. they have a mother who gives herself, her head, her heart to her passion. they are going to see how important that is. when my girl was smaller, i would cry because i felt i had let her down in so many ways. i hadn’t made the perfect family, the perfect life, the stuff. and she wouldn’t see me doing the things at which i was amazing. but i loved her. like a crazy woman. though i don’t know you in the flesh, every single thing you make and say and share and care about is born of passion and intelligence and a deep ethical sensibility. you will figure out the juggling act. it will settle or you will change it. you are such a beautiful mother in a million different ways. xoxo

  4. Rashmi, Oh Rashmi. You can never apologize for doing what you love. Your girls love you know matter what you forget. This time is a blip on the almighty roadmap of life. You cannot be this hard on yourself, because in the end, this IS all for them. You need to drop the ‘ole guilt trip (they are too expensive anyway) and focus on what is important. Those girls see you for who you really are: perfect. They know no other mom so to them, you are their perfection. You can do no wrong in their eyes. And seriously? I don’t have a new studio and I still can’t find the sash….that I paid someone to sew on b.c the first one I did upside down and had to buy a whole new one to do it perfect. You think my daughter cared? NO. She informed me after my fiasco of a iron on experience that she would have worn it the way I did it. $30 on a shiny new perfect sash with all the badges sewn on perfectly? The reaction of my daughter when I got it fixed? Priceless. That one and only camera phone image from February. Priceless.

  5. Rashmi, all I can do is echo the other girls here – you’re doing an amazing job – just looks at the girls smiles to know that – and don’t you want to teach them to follow their dreams? Then you’re doing things just right, by being the example, by walking the walk – it’s hard, it’s riddled with guilt at times – but you’re showing them how to live life to the full

  6. Rashmi…I had to sigh a lot when reading your letter. How I can relate to all that. There are many times when I feel guilty that I can’t be there for her because I have to work. There are times when I question myself, is going back to work really a good decision? But like you said, I am doing it for her and also want to show her the world! Thank you so much for sharing this and being honest about this, Rashmi. I know now that I am not alone. Hugs!

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