I sometimes wonder when driving in the car alone (the only alone time I get) where I would be if raising Hera was not high on my everyday to-do list. Donโt get me wrong, having her is not a chore, but she does take up most my time, my thoughts, my energy. Iโm depleted most days, fueled by the flames of energy drinks. My plate is heaped with not only arranging Heraโs life but living mine. Iโm a doula, a broadcaster working for two radio stations, a TV anchor, and a media officer for multiple organisations and completing my MBA currently through Henley Business School. Sleep has not lived here in a long time. So, I type this with one eye open, crisps in one hand (easiest โmealโ I could find) and playing ball, yes, in the house, with one leg with Hera, perched on a barstool at the kitchen counter – all while trying to make this piece a masterpiece.
Iโm proudly an only-parent, fully empowered by the cards that this life has dealt me. Instead of crying over what I cannot change, hours of therapy have helped me calm my fears and embrace my lifeโs tapestry with all its flaws, dents and explosions of bright colour, highlighting the moments in life that has taken my breath away. Busy and present is the balance I now strive for between those two points. Thereโs work, and there is home and in the middle is my Warrior Princess whom all of this circumnavigates, for all I do, I do for her. She is my motivator, my comedian, my companion, my buddy, my friend โ so God really blessed me beyond what I feel Iโm worthy of by making me her mother. My heart bursts, literally, at the sight of my daughter. I marvel at how grown she is, from a chubby little podgy dumpling (oh, please take me back), to a tall, witty four-year-old with a sense of humour and a pointer finger that works overtime ๏.
Everything in our household is absolute normal chaos, even stepping on a Lego piece (man, that hurts!). Iโm the mom with a school run uniform, envious of the momโs in their heels and pretty pink lips with matching outfits, while Iโm in the blue track pants and flip flops no matter the weather. We are the girls bursting through the school gates with the loudest good morning chant, and unashamedly so. I am the mom who plans the lunch box alternating fruit and their colours for maximum nutrient satisfaction. At swimming and gymnastics, Iโm the cheerleader yelling loudly from the sidelines in support of Heraโs efforts, enabling her with my motivational yelps and spurring any other child on that I think could benefit.
Itโs a cacophony of Titus craze that anyone stumbling upon might think weโre all disillusioned, but what I can undeniably confirm is that everything we are and do springs from a fount of love and laughter overflowing abundantly. This is the glue that sticks us together.
My ultimate favourite is waking up in the morning to a little human bouncing around on the bed, waking me up. We cuddle and affirm how great our day is going to be because we have each other, express our gratitude, say our prayers and then, like spring daisies, bloom wherever we are planted. Despite all I face alone, Iโm determined to raise a confident, independent, courageous girl who will stand firm in who she is and in tune with what she feels, which to me as a parent, are important achievements as she blossoms into who she truly is, over the years.
I was blessed right on time with what God knew I needed, and he was so right. I would swap out nothing for the prestigious title crown of Mama (no matter how real the struggle is some days) and to have little arms embrace me, soft kisses on my cheek and my own words coming back at me, at all the right times when Iโm feeling low, โYou can do it mama, believe it – in yourself,โ and in that high-spirited little voice, how could I let her down!
