I live to let you shine.

Sometimes I just watch him, silently, in awe of who he has become.

The first time I held Oliver I didn't know what to think. I don't think I loved him right away. I felt pretty shit about that but I'd lost 3 litres of blood and I was pretty unwell. I hear that's pretty common. It didn't last long anyway, and I nurtured him from the first moment. Maybe I did love him, maybe I just didn't know him. Maybe I was just scared shitless.

Everyday since then I have loved him more and more. I never think it's possible, I think my heart won't cope another's day expansion. But when James wakes me in up in the morning by placing a very excited toddler on my bed and he crawls up and kisses me on the face, then proceeds to roll on my head and nestle in for cuddles, there goes my heart again.

Bigger, stronger, fuller. 

When James is away sometimes I think I can't do another day. But then I hear him call, I see the way his face lights up when I enter the room and there I am.

Willing, able, wanting.

He talks to us. He doesn't say words but he talks and talks. He mimics us and the way we speak. He is exactly James on the phone, very firm and serious. He is me when he doesn't get his way, determined and frustrated. He is himself when he plays, talking to himself, pointing, questioning, "what's that?"

I couldn't be anyone other than Oliver's mother. I want the world to be a better place, I have resorted back to my political ways. Not for myself, but for my son. I want him to have what we had. No, better! I want him to have nature, a strong economy, and the right to marry whoever he wants. I want him to know that just because a child is born into poverty it doesn't mean they are lesser than us, that they shouldn't be educated, or fed, or survive. I want him to think, not worry, but think about the world.

I want him to dance to the beat of his own drum. He's so quirky. He sings loudly in supermarkets, he says hello and goodbye to everyone, even inanimate objects- but shies away when they say it back. He claps when he does something he is proud of, he claps when we do something he likes. He is still so fond of Pandora. He does what his heart tells him to do, with no ambitions, just desire.

He is so pure. His actions are his own. Perhaps encouraged by us, but with no real influence. He just does things because that's what he wants to do. He farts loudly in a crowded restaurant and then claps, because it feels nice. We all know it feels nice, but we hold it in. Society says no. My husband says no!

Fifteen months ago I was handed my wonderful baby boy for the first time. I didn't know who he would become but I knew he would be wonderful.

He is fire, burning bright. He shines and his energy is contagious. He is smart and strong, determined and loud. He does not fit in, or go unnoticed. He is a presence, he is compassionate, empathetic, interested, curious and fun. He laughs and looks so proud when he makes others laugh. His love could set your soul on fire, and he kisses with his entire face.

I couldn't dream of raising him as anything other than who he is and I hope he hangs on to his childhood for as long as he can. We are certainly going to ensure he can hold it tight for as long as possible.

He is my little Oliver J, and he is perfect in every way.

Sometimes I just sit and watch, and feel so proud of who he has become, who we have allowed him to become.

The best way to describe motherhood to me is this beautiful song by Gregory and the Hawk, Boats and Birds.

I hope it sends your heart a flutter.



Mama J
xx