31 May 2014

At three and a half...

So, you're three and a half. You regularly tell me that waiting to be four is boring. A lot is due to happen then. "When I'm four you won't have to sit with me at bedtime Mummy." I think it seems such a long way away to you that you could promise me the moon because the chances of ever getting there are remote. I'm not sure what you imagine will be waiting for you in the magical land of being four but you're looking forward to it such a lot. 
Matching hair clips 

At three and a half you've spent your half term learning to swim and I have spent your half term crying with pride. I don't know why we cry when we're happy but we do. I do. Sometimes you get confused which tears are which. These ones have been happy tears. My baby girl, who was scared to walk over leaves, is jumping in the swimming pool. I can't help but well up, watching you try so very hard and looking so little and vulnerable in your swimming costume, hat and goggles. Like Christina Ricci in Mermaids.
I have watched you as you have visibly pushed past your apprehensions and you have told us that you are very proud of yourself. As you should be.

In case you don't live here when you read this, at three and a half you live in your "Brinkley house" which you are very attached to. "Mummy, I know now that holidays are not moving and we will live on holiday only for a little while. Then we come home. Right Mummy?" When I was little I was attached to houses too. I remember crying uncontrollably at the prospect of moving house and feeling like my world was collapsing around me. As you get older you'll realise that you can make new homes. But I get it sweetie, it's not just bricks and mortar is it. 

High Street, Brinkley, Cambridgeshire, May 2014

We've spent the day with Alfie and Ralph today and you've only just stopped crying after they had to leave. You just adore Alfie who has grown into the most polite, thoughtful and kind little boy. And Ralph's affectionate nature has not waned. A hug from those, just about still pudgy, baby arms is quite hard to beat. You three will be friends forever. I'm sure of it.

"I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string." ~ L M Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

11 May 2014

Me, you and your platypus

There's music from the 90s on TV. It was the music of my teenage years and it has always made me happy to reflect. Now though, I reflect with a touch of sadness because you weren't here. I'm not sure any memory will ever be quite the same now that I have you. I wonder if all parents feel like that? 

I said, "I love this song"
You replied, "I think it's a bit boring to my little head Mummy."
"I love you"
"I love you too Mummy. When you're not here I keep you safe with my head and my courage. That's why I love you"

You still use "that's why" in place of "because." And that's still ok. Those words all came out of your little head though. It's amazing how you've grown and absorbed enough to communicate your thoughts. I know all children do it but it's still amazing. 

We've done some cooking today. You've started quoting my cooking rules back to me. I've created a monster! "You have to make cheese sauce Mummy. Not buy it. That's cheating is it Mummy." You're using "is it" at the moment whilst you master the use of "isn't it". I never want to forget your journey with language. That's why I write to you. So we can both remember it in years to come. You worked very hard at your cooking today. My Nana was a cook, my Mummy loves cooking, I love cooking and I think it might be in the genes....
We had a break and watched a film. You hugged me saying, "don't worry Mummy" when I looked concerned for the children and Groo in Despicable Me. I had a tear in my eye at your little show of affection and you said, "it's ok Mummy, they're all together and safe now." 
You just asked if you could use me as a slide. I said that was fine:

"Yes darling"
"Is it ok if my platypus slides on you too?"
I love you sweetheart. 

"For I am a bear of very little brain and long words bother me." ~Winnie the Pooh (A.A. Milne)