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“Mommy,”
 
I heard it the first time but wasn’t sure. The tentative voice had cut through my sleep. Featherweight sleeper that I am.
 
Pray tell; how do mothers even hear their child’s voice in their sleep?
 
Cases of heavy sleepers who ordinarily could sleep through a storm but then become mothers who jerk away at the faintest sound from an offspring abound.
 
The closest description i can ascribe to it is that same way you know it is your phone ringing in a noisy room.
 
queer, isn’t it?
 
Yes. Odd.
 
Like when a lactating mother weighs her breast in her hand and tells you that her child who is not even there, is crying.
 
“Maama!
 
I startled awake. More from surprise than sleep because the voice was actually coming from my doorway instead of the usual call from his room.
 
But surely, this child of mine couldnt have braved through the dark to my room?. I thought as I jerked away.
 
Reminiscences of people awoken by a family member as a decoy for robbers flashed through my mind as I jumped up
 
He didn’t even switch on any lights.
 
“Ogiri?” I flicked on my phone. Saw him standing there and then saw it.
 
An accident.
 
He had pulled off his jammies and held them in his hands.
 
That explained the tentative voice from this otherwise assertive human.
 
Oh sure, he still wets his bed ocassionaly. He is just 4! I am not a supermom so my 4-year old still has accidents.
 
We currently have an arrangement. And it has been working so far.
 
The agreement is either I wake up and go take him out or he calls out to me from his sleep when he wants to wee.
 
But anyday we break the routine, which is far in between, then life happens and we clean up and go back to sleep.
 
Someone said to me in derision …’how can David at 4 still bedwet? He shouldn’t because my own 4 year old stopped bedwetting since he was 3! That means you didn’t teach him …..”
 
Same woman who wondered why I should put him in a school that practise the August Calendar cut-off which doesn’t favor September and downwards kids .
Her few weeks younger son is already a class ahead, she gloats, but remains silent on the lesson teacher she uses to augment or the fact that she mostly does his homework.
 
She who always has an opinion, that is what I call her in my head, I used to let her get to me until I realized she was battling her own demons too.
 
She doesn’t know any better and if using me to shine rocks her world, shine on baby!
 
I refuse to add such an insignificant thing as a 4-year old wetting his bed to the list of issues battling for my sanity in this wonderful town called Lasgidi.
 
I am so happy for you whose kids stopped bed wetting at ages 2 or 3. Well done to both you and the child.
 
Back to my boy.
 
As i flicked on the light and met him by the door, i felt for him. was that uncertainty shame or trepidation?
 
What could be running through his mind? Have I somehow inferred to him that accidents do not happen? I hope I am not raising another perfectionist here I mused as I went through the motions.
 
As a child, I experienced first hand how adults burden us with their own standards and make you feel small when you fall short.
 
I was breaking that cycle.
 
After assuring him that it was not a a big deal to pee in your dreams, I tucked him in with a kiss and went back to bed.
 
It was 12.24am.
 
So he had woken me up to join the #Halleluyahchallenge then? I comforted myself. I had only participated in a handful. But as I lay in bed and write this, it throws a myriad of issues which could be fundamentally wrong with us as humans:
 
competition.
 
Insecurity,
 
peer pressure.
 
Comparison.
 
Self esteem issues.
 
The seemingly stronger oppressing the weaker et al
 
I still reiterate that having this son was the major key that unlocked my quest for a better life.
 
Faced with the herculean task of moulding a life and being all things to him, I knew I lacked the requisite toolsets.
 
Heck, I barely knew me. I have passed through life so far just going with the flow so how was I even gonna do this?
 
In my previous world, I had been cocooned in a bubble where everything was either black or white. Where the only way between point A and B was a straight line.
 
But now, I wanted to get intentional. For both our sakes.
 
The journey of self discovery granted me access into a new realm. A whole new world out there where there are unlimited access to different toolboxes,
 
A journey through which I am realising that people do things for different reasons. Most of the time, selfish reasons.
 
A journey which tells me that some times people do not even know why they do the things they do.
 
A world where even when a wide array of choices are laid out before you, you still might end up self-sabotaging.
 
A world where insecure people fighting through their self esteem fog, lash out with everything at their disposal.
 
Everything and anything – ranging from age, child, looks, materials, status, exposure etc is a pawn and it doesn’t matter the collateral damages which accrue.
 
A journey which is teaching me that I am okay just by being me but I could get better.
 
A road along which are toolkits strewn around and access is unhindered , if you only but stretch out your hands.
 
As I doze off, I high-5 myself mentally: I am liking this new me.
 
P/S… This is one of the many unfinished articles dumped inside my content jar. Some I get to finish eventually, others I just kill.
 
Now,
 
What stage of your self discovery journey are you at?
 
Are you even on a journey?
 
Have you finished your own and now leading others through?
 
Share your experience,so we can talk.
 
#amwriting
#musingsfrommyjourney
#stopwiththecompetition
#runningyourrace
 
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