Right, so I made up my mind.
I decided to document everything I notice from my children. I chose to blog because I thought this is the most efficient way to store my children's works along with my observations and other facts.
At the very least, blogging will help me release the pressure I feel as an imperfect Ibu who's not fully brave to fight for the children. The system I live in now is so tough and rigid, that worsened by the different conditions and culture backgrounds from what I used to be in. It's like I am trapped in the box, and kept hitting the wall everytime I turn around trying to look for way out.
Right, so this is how I calm myself down.
I already started writing on the night of my boy's birthday. This is what I wrote, and I will continue writing whatever I feel I need to say because this will ease me a bit.
On his 10th birthday, I can see he is growing, I can really see how he is transforming. For 10 years, I have been watching the happy soul inside (now) 140ish cm body height moving, playing, singing, acting, dancing, crying, laughing, and eventually talking. For 10 years, I have been part of his out of ordinary happenings: slow progress, sudden changes, surprising discovery of his ability, confusing conditions. And just before year 10 begins, I can tell that he has rather layback personality when he master something, and that he is warm and caring which are well hidden under his "I don't care" looks.
For 10 years I have been learning so much from him. And on his 10th birthday, I found that I am still not a perfect Ibu. I am still in my own battle of finding the best way to help him and I am still in the puddle of fear to totally fight for him. Often, the little voice in my heart whispers, " Don't you worry. He is all right, he'll find his way. There will be the time." Whilst the big logic in my head echoes, " What are you? Are you not gonna do anything? What if that little voice is wrong?!? Come on, don't waste time, the clock is ticking!!". And I freeze there, puzzled.
On his birthday night, I pray that Allah will listen to my little voice. And no matter how hard it is to bring down the wall, I am sure Allah will show me something different to do for him, something new to hope for. May Allah always bless him with so much more, and to open the door of time for him.
Happy birthday, my son. I love you.
London, 15 Dec 2015
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