8 November 2014

"We can only look, behind from where we came...."

Today I have been more acutely aware of your advancing journey from being a baby to being a little girl. Your drawing has come on from just recognisable shapes to actual Father Christmas!
Your language is changing from the basic use of only the necessary words to, "my butterfly light catcher looks just so amazing Mummy" and, when I (clearly) won the race across The Brinkley Lion's carpark today you shouted, "we will see about this  Mummy" as you raced past me to the new finish line declaring, "better luck next time Mummy!" as you finished. Every day you sound more grown up and I don't see it happen. It's like trying to see a flower grow. 
In 2010, in your little Moses basket

This morning I watched you sing along to all of the words to Joni Mitchell's 'Circle Game'. 
I didn't know that you knew all the words but we've baked cakes, biscuits, quiches, jam tarts and all sorts of other things to Joni Mitchell for as long as you've been able to stand on a chair beside me. You call it "our baking music" and I am so happy that it has soaked into you. I know now that when you're older and you hear Joni Mitchell it will evoke memories of us. Her music will be woven into the tapestry of your being and will remain for ever. It's just how it works. 
You, today

"Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game...."

Night night sweetie.