SCENTS

I just made brownies. The apartment, which was filled the lovely scent of a chickpea pasta sauce has been replaced with this sticky-sweet smell that reminds me of my mother. Baking should be it's own scratch and sniff sticker. The scent is wholesome, warming, happy. I hate baking, but to get that smell, that scent that is so distinct, with its unique undertones as to what you are preparing, makes it worth it.

Amidst the baking smell, there is the underlay of warm chocolate, of coca hardening on the outside, while its inside remains soft, gooey and inviting. I want to bathe in it.

I am waiting for the brownies to cool a bit before I try to ice them. I hate the melty mess icing can become when the brownies are too warm. I want to break into them but I have to wait.

It's a reward for the day, a reward and cheers to my ability to mother my son and be prepared for anything. Today, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was in control and had a firm and resounding grasp on this 'motherhood' thing. I know that next week, or next month, something might happen to make me second guess my abilities, but for now, I am confident and I am proud. My chest is pumped up, and I feel pride for the virtues I've instilled and the lessons I have given. Its these little things - the behaving well in public, my ability to be prepared for anything, the respect (or as much respect as an 11 month old can give). We have given these things to our son, we have worked to make them a part of his nature and I can see the seeds have been planted and now need tender care and nurturing for them to grow.

He's sleeping peacefully. I just went in and tried to take a picture but the sounds of the camera was disturbing him to much and I couldn't get a good shot - maybe another time.

The brownies need my attention.