An ordinary Sunday

Nothing much happened today. I love you more than I am capable of every single day but, today, I loved you a little bit more. I don't know why. I wanted to cherish the feel of your little hands in mine, the smell of the top of your head and your arms around my neck. 

You and me today, in the hanging egg chair

You chatted incessantly on the way to the cinema today. You asked me if my car was a front or rear wheel drive and then explained the benefits of a 4 wheel drive! You told me that you still wanted to be a chef but asked if it might be possible to be an astronaut too. And anyway, you do like space so that might be the better option, and, if you were a chef too, you could cook in space. 

At the cinema you sat transfixed for the whole of Finding Dory. Afterwards you said that you were so happy for Dory as she finally had her friends and her family. You said that Dory's mummy and daddy must have loved her a lot to have stayed at home laying shells out for her to find her way back. 

We painted pictures and chilled out together for the rest of the day. It's my struggle, not yours, but today I didn't want you to go to bed, or grow up. I wanted to hold you near me forever. Having you has taken me to places in my heart that I didn't even know were there. I'll always lay shells out for you. We're not so different, Dory's mummy and me x

“We will never forget you, Dory. And we know you will never forget us.” ~ Dory’s mum

Almost 5!

On your last weekend before you turn 5, we have been to the circus, made pancakes, marshaled at your Parkrun, practiced your cycling, sung songs, been out for lunch and watched films. I am constantly amazed by how quickly my baby is growing up before my eyes. No longer a baby but a little person, grabbing hold of life with both hands and soaking it up. I love that your teddy is currently blindfolded so that you can arrange her surprise birthday party without her seeing. And that you thought your fishes may have been playing tag when one chased the other in the tank today. You are so kind and you always see the best in people (and fish).

My little girl is hurtling towards her 5th birthday bursting with new knowledge, wonderful friendships, more questions than you can imagine, determination, an exploding vocabulary, compassion, imagination, energy and so many dreams. At 4 years 11 months and 20-something days, you are my whole world. 

You have been the sweetest, funniest, kindest, most inquisitive little 4 year old and, whilst I am sad that this is the last time I'll write to you at 4, I cannot wait to meet my 5 year old daughter and see what adventures there are in store for her.

I love you, always x

"If you don't know where you are going any road can take you there" ~ Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Growing up

I have come to learn, and strongly believe, that having you no more makes me a parent than having a cello would make me a cellist. To me, being your parent is about the guidance, inspiration, protection and support that I try to provide to you every day. I have had to learn and to change and better myself in order to be the person that I want you to learn from, and will continue to do so. The biggest job I want to excel at is teaching you to get along without me. That's really difficult when you're 4 and you look to me for everything. Subtly and gently though, I want to show you that women are independent, strong, and healthy with views on the world and no limits on what they can do. If I achieve nothing else, I want that message to be ingrained in your soul.

Sometimes people can fall short of their dreams, not be who they want to be or deny themselves opportunities. Not through any deliberate actions but through other people's preconceived ideas of the world and how things, how we, should be. My promise to you is that I will try to give you the tools and environment that you need to become who you want to be and I won't ever smother you with my own ideals or standards. I might be wrong (I sometimes am!) but it seems to me that inspiration and the space for free expression are the most important things that I can give to you. As I see it, if I'm wrong about that, it's better than being wrong about telling you how and who to be.

The other day I found you crying proper tears on your own in the lounge. You told me that your pretend baby girl had eaten a magic apple and died. You've asked about death a lot lately and it is hard for me to see your pure little mind working through such a difficult subject. But, it is all part of your development and we talk and I listen. And I will continue to listen as you grow and want to know about the world around you.

The next morning you woke up with some "sad news." Apparently, "Bluey had been bitten by a lobster." You look for a reason to care for those around you and Bluey's distress at being bitten by a lobster meant that she needed you. I love that you wanted to be there for her.

Bluey

I know that I will play a part in giving you the strength to grow. I feel that most when I go to you at night. You are too scared to leave your room with it's butterfly fairly lights providing a safe glow. Then you put your soft little hand in mine and you march into that dark hallway with purpose. At the moment, my hand can protect you from the dark, from big dogs, from roads and from monsters. That makes me so very happy.  

Sweet dreams baby. 

In Cambridge on my birthday

"You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than the other girls." ~ J M Barrie, Peter Pan

"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.

My advice to you

I have toyed for a long time with the 'after I've died' letter. There is so much I want to say but I have struggled with the juxtaposition of emotions involved. There's the dislike I feel for the morbid nature of a letter from beyond the grave. And then there's the desire I have to share the sentiments and emotions attached to such a letter. So this is my compromise. Here's what I'd say, if I had died, topped and tailed by a reminder that I haven't. I will probably bawl my eyes out whilst writing this. But that's ok.

I would certainly have very different advice for you if I were to die in 10 years time but what I have to say now will never stop being relevant so, here goes:

So, your Mummy has gone and it will be a very hard thing to come to terms with for a while. But then one day it will be easier. You probably won't notice that day coming but I absolutely promise you that it will. And if there is one thing I need from you now it is to know that you are ok. Don't deny me that.

So, now that I know you're ok, there are some things I want you to try to remember. Things that will matter to who you are and who you become. Things you mustn't ever lose sight of.

You are only three at the moment but you are currently very aware of other people's feelings and emotions and are visibly affected by them yourself. This is such an important quality. Never stop caring and being there for your friends and family. Empathy (look it up if you're not sure) benefits those around you but also helps you to obsess less about yourself and your own woes. Self obsession is not a nice or healthy trait. See life through other people's eyes. It will help you in a wide array of situations.

Now, material stuff. It's nice, but it really doesn't matter. Flash cars, fancy toys, big houses, they do not make a person. Don't judge anyone on what they own. Ever. What makes a person is who they are, what they contribute, how they behave and how they make you feel. I wrongly thought that that material stuff was important once. But it's really not. Please believe me. I have come to realise that removing any focus on material things is healthier than wanting them or obsessing about who else has them. Happiness is not in any of those things so stop looking for it there. I can guarantee that you will get as much happiness from being around the right people and fulfilling your own creative potential than you will from anything material.

However....There will be things you want and need. And for those things you must work hard, earn your own money and buy them yourself. It is the right and only way to be. Don't expect them to come to you. This is such an important message for me to communicate to you for so many reasons. You shouldn't look for wealth from anywhere other than from your own endeavours. You are bright, resourceful, clever and beautiful and you will be capable of a brilliant career that you will forge for yourself. It will create a secure future for you and will make you proud of yourself. You will be able to look back and say, "I achieved that. No one else. Just me". There will be people to help you along the way and to look out for you, of course there will, but if you can be strong and independent then you'll be able to deal with any curve balls which come your way.

The next thing you must do is cherish your friendships and work hard to maintain them. 

My best friends are everything to me and have become more important the older I've got. I am grateful every day for them. You must nurture your friendships too. Your lifelong friends, almost certainly, aren't in your life yet but keep your eyes and heart open, you never know! When you're little they'll share your adventures. When you're teenage they'll share the angst that you will feel nearly every single god damn day. And from there on in they will help you to shop for clothes that you won't look stupid in (you will buy some clothes that you look stupid in *remembers some fashion disasters from the '90s* but your best defence against this will be your friends). They will buy you exactly what you want on your birthday because they know you inside out. They will understand what films you'll love and tell you when they're on so you don't miss them. They'll write perfect messages in your cards reminding you how lucky you are and they'll be your insides when it feels like yours have been crushed for whatever reason. You really can't buy that stuff.

Some less important things:

- pay a little bit of attention to keeping healthy. I was fat and unhappy for a long time

- you'll regret bleaching your hair. Mine turned to straw for a while

- don't drink too much alcohol. It never works out well

- watch how much eyeliner you use at around age 15. I looked like Robert Smith from The Cure for a period (Google him)

And above all of this, know that you are absolutely everything to me. You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I love you unconditionally and always will.

 

See you in the morning darling.

I love you a little bit more today

It sounds silly. It might be because you let me put your hair in a pony tail (you never normally do and I had to bribe you with a chocolate button). You look a bit more grown up somehow. So pretty. But more little girl than toddler.

You've been quite pensive today and asking a lot about when you were a baby. We tried to talk about before you were born. You couldn't grasp the concept. 

"But where was I then Mummy?" 

"You didn't exist then sweetheart. It was before you were born?"

"But where was I?"

"You weren't anywhere?"

"Was I all alone somewhere?"

"No baby. You were with me."

We had a big hug and decided to talk about that another time.

You've been a bit scared of things today. The cross rotten tomato in Bubbleguppies upset you this morning. I'm not sure you'll be an adrenalin junkie when you're older. You like things on an even keel. You're only 3 though. Plenty of time to develop a liking for adventure! 

Hiding from the whale in Wonderpets this afternoon

Feeding the ducks today

Mummy jumped in puddles too

Your Mummy 

We didn't do much today but your grown up hair, questions about being a baby, and fear of mean tomatoes all made me love you a tiny bit more x

Dear Molly, you talked about when you grow up tonight...

We had a sweet little chat at bedtime tonight about what you'll be able to do "when I'm bigger Mummy." I put my overwhelming desire to ignore the fact that you're going to get bigger to one side and settled down to see what getting bigger means to you at age 3 years and 2 months.

Number one on your list was to "drink coffee like you Mummy." Maybe I have too much coffee. 

Then you moved on to other aspirations. "I will be able to get my own teddies from my high shelf Mummy" you said excitedly. Yes baby, you will. 

"I will be able to drive your car Mummy." A pretty sensible suggestion for age 17+..."and press all the coloured buttons in it ALL by myself!"

"When I am bigger Mummy, I will cook you roast beef." I enquired about which vegetables we might have. You said "chicken." We'll do some work on the food groups. I said broccoli was a vegetable. You responded with, "oh, now I understand. We'll have cauliflower. Silly me." Not silly darling. There's a lot to take in. It'll take some time. 

"And for my work I will work on a computer like you Mummy and be a teacher and be a gardener. I can do those things all at the same time." For now I want you to believe you can be whatever you want to be. We have plenty of time for looking at the practical options for gardening teachers on computers at desks. 

And the last thing you'd like to do when you're bigger was a little mixed up but the sentiment was perfect. "When I am big Mummy, and you are smaller, I will read you a story and tuck you in your big girl bed. I will read you The Smartest Giant book to make you happy." 

"Mummy?"

"Yes darling"

"Can I still have my big girl bed when I am bigger?"

"Of course sweetheart"

"And will I still have Right Bunny?"

"Most definitely"

"Oh goodie" 

I love you so much baby and I can't wait to hear how your aspirations change as you grow. Experience everything you want to in your own time and believe in yourself. Just don't hurry. There's no rush.

Night night darling. Lots of love, Mummy x

"I think she is growing up, and so begins to dream dreams, and have hopes and fears and fidgets, without knowing why or being able to explain them." ~ Louisa May Alcott, Little Women (1868-69)