Dear Molly.....

All parents have a bond with their children. It's not a new concept but it is incredible. Sometimes it feels to me like your umbilical cord was never cut. I feel your emotions like they're happening to me. I wonder how nature does that? You climbed the slide at the park the other day to show the "big girls" how well you can slide down and they'd walked off before you got to the top of the slide's ladder. I think I felt your disappointment more strongly than you did. Feeling a child's disappointment, sadness and fear seems to be an affliction parents have to live with so I'll try and get used to it. I'll also get used to the paradox I feel in loving you so much and wanting to keep you close whilst knowing my role is to help you to be independent. Another parental challenge to rationalise and deal with. There are a lot of those. 

It's weird, I can cope with you physically hurting yourself more easily than I can when you are emotionally hurt. The day we left Right Bunny at a friends' house I sobbed with you through those horrible 20 minutes when you thought you'd never see her again. I hate it when people who aren't my own child are disappointed so I guess it was always going to be harder with you. 

You, Right Bunny & me, safely together

In contrast, I love how happy I can make you. I do hope that I can continue to do that as you get bigger. I appreciate it might get harder as your tastes become more sophisticated and I wont be able to make you ecstatic with some paper cups that you've never seen before and that you can fill with gravel. I have three pretty tins in my room to keep things in. You've always played with them and the other day I let you have the smallest one for your things in your room. Your little face lit up. You let out a big gasp and said "really Mummy?" You were so delighted and you have chosen to keep these things in it: your Lucy lobster which Grandad brought you in Sheringham, your silver heart necklace which our friends gave you, your bracelet which your Great Grandad gave you when you were born, your 'I've explored Skipton Castle' badge and a crayon. It took you a while to decide where to keep your tin. After much deliberation you have put it in pride of place next to your books and in front of your lion bookend. You declared that "it looks really good there Mummy". I agreed.

I occasionally have pangs of guilt that I don't do more sums with you. We don't own any flash cards. I havent made you recite your alphabet and I never bought those expensive language DVDs that I meant to buy. But then I remember, you can sing entire songs so you'll easily remember the alphabet when you have to. You know how many strawberries you have left, or how many carrots have grown in your garden, or how many sandwiches you require for your make-believe tea party so when the time comes that you need to subtract one from the other, I know you'll get it. I want you to enjoy your childhood, learn about the world and all the people in it, be inspired and to naturally develop your interests. There will be plenty of time for being academic and I know you're bright and will be ok. 

More than anything I want you to want to experience and appreciate everything around you. Yesterday you saw your first hot air balloon. Open mouthed and amazed you stared at it as it floated across the sky over our garden. "Wow, Mummy. It's so colourful and big and high. Maybe one day I could go in a hot air balloon with you Mummy....maybe?" I welled up a bit and hugged you.

Tonight you said "sorry Mummy that you can't play on my Scuttlebug because it is too small for you" and then you hugged me and looked up at me and said "don't worry Mummy. You can play with something else" You thought I was sad and wanted to change that. I do chirp on about it but your kindness makes me so happy and is not something I have to bring out of you. It's just there. Just the way it should be.

You're asleep in your little bed now so, sweet dreams darling. Lots of love, as always, Mummy x

“Well, anyway, when I grow up, I'm always going to talk to little girls as if they were, too, and I'll never laugh when they use big words.” ~ L M Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

Dear Molly.....it's written in the stars

Tonight you wanted to count the stars. You counted six and were delighted that you'd counted them all "all by my own." You don't need to know that what you could see is a smaller fraction of what's actually there than you'll ever understand. I want you to be amazed and delighted by your own perception of reality before I try and force the mechanics of the universe on you. "Yes baby, you counted them all and they are very beautiful"

In your own sweet way you wanted to share this amazing discovery with the 'people' closest to you. You held Right Bunny up, making sure her face was pointing towards the sky and you said "look Right Bunny. Look at the beautiful stars" then you turned to me and asked me to leave the curtains open so Right Bunny could see them while you had your bath.

Reality and facts and science are important, of course they are, but so are emotions and people and imagination and childhood. I want you to learn, to grow, to care and to marvel at the world at your own pace and with an open mind. Maybe one day you will choose to tell your baby that the people they've loved can watch over them as stars and when they see a star shoot across the sky they can make a wish and that, if they want it badly enough, they can have a star of their very own.

See you tomorrow sweetheart. I love you. Mummy x

"When you wish upon a star

Your dream comes true" ~ Leigh Herline & Ned Washington (1940)

Dear Molly.....ti voglio bene

Auntie Lulu and I are just back from our 'Mums on the run' weekend in Italia. You had a lovely weekend in Holt. 

It is healthy for you to have a few days with Nana and "Dangad" and healthy for me to have some grown up time away with my friend. I want you to have experiences and time away. I don't relish being away from you but I know it helps you to develop your personality and teaching you to be independent is so very important to me. Having said all that, however much I talk about my long awaited girls' weekend I will sheepishly admit that there was a little void where my chatty, curly haired little girl usually is. 

Us in our beautiful 30's chic Italian cafe on the seafront in Pescara.

You would love Abruzzo. We've been going since 2006 and you will go one day too. I really long to show you the places which are important to me.

The view across to the farm from just up the mountain on Piano Domini. 

I want to show you the mountains. I know you'll be as awestruck by their beauty as I am every time I see them. On our trip we drove across the mountains in the picture below from Caramanico Terme to Pacentro. 

We'd never been to Pacentro which is allegedly one of the most beautiful, well preserved, medieval villages in Italy. It can also boast that it was where Madonna's grandparents came from. We managed to find the Ciccone name on the statue pictured below delighting us by giving the Madonna connection some credibility. 

Pacentro was amazing. Welcoming, beautiful, steeped in history dating back to the 9th century and capable of knocking up the most amazing lunch! One day I'll take you there. 

Pacentro from the road winding away above it and up the mountain. 

I had a wonderful time in Italy. As you know I bought you a little snow globe from Caramanico and telling you I had a present for you and then giving it to you compares equally to all the amazing experiences I had on my trip.

We had the nicest little chat too.

You said, "Mavis hugged me at school Mummy. Like you do"

I replied, "But Mummy's hugs are better?" Not wishing to be outdone by Mavis.

Matter of factly you replied, "No. Mavis is better"

But then you said, "Don't look sad Mummy. Mavis is better at hugs. Like you are better at hugs too" Never has your misinterpretation of the meaning of a word pleased me so much. Yes darling, we can both be better.

Buonanotte baby. I love you x

Dear Molly, it's your bath & bedtime....

Sitting on the bathroom side unit next to the sink tonight all wrapped in your little hooded towel and a drop of water fell from your hair onto your cheek. You said, "why am I crying Mummy? I am not sad." I told you you weren't crying and you said, "well, why am I leaking then Mummy?" I loved you just a little bit more at that moment.

I dried you and cleaned your teeth and carried you back to your room. You turned the bathroom light off and exclaimed that you had done it, "all by my own" as you do every night. You bought me your boots, bar, socks and pyjamas and sat on my lap to read to me while I rubbed your hair dry and combed it. Tonight you chose to read me 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' and you did it perfectly. You looked at me expectantly when you'd finished. I think you knew I'd be delighted. I was. You read it again.

I got you all dry and warm in your pyjamas and then you said, "sing me a song and hug me Mummy." I know you are delaying me leaving you alone in bed but you snuggle up close and your little face looks up at me for a song so, as much for me as for you, I oblige. After two verses of 'You are my sunshine' you reluctantly agree to climb into bed. 

We read The Snail & The Whale tonight which was your choice. I've read it to you since you were far too young to understand it. You used to like the pictures, and the rhythmic sound of the words. Now you ask about the volcano, "is it hot fire in the mountain Mummy?" And you stroke the whale when he gets beached on the shore. You look uneasily sad at his predicament and I can see relief in your eyes when the locals get him safely back out to sea. You even care about a fictitious whale and that makes me happy. In your little pyjamas, all cuddled up and caring about things so much makes you seem so vulnerable but I know that it will make you happy and stronger to be able to empathise and care.

You climb into bed and quickly make sure I am not leaving just yet, "I know Mummy" with your finger pointing in the air like it's a brand new idea when, in reality, it happens every night, "you could sit with me for a while and then you could go downstairs when you have had enough of sitting and I have my eyes shut." I agree to your very good (and new) idea and tell you I love you to the moon and back a million times, which you repeat as you do every night, and then you shut one eye, checking I am staying with the other. Thumb in. Right Bunny nuzzled against your cheek and sleep.....until morning, preferably!

Sweet dreams baby. Lots of love, Mummy x

"We is in Dream Country,' the BFG said. 'This is where all dreams is beginning." ~ Roald Dahl, The BFG

Poetry is harder than it looks....

I had a go at writing a poem. I'm not sure I adhered to all of the poetry rules but I enjoyed trying and promise to learn all about rhyming prose and structure for the next one! 

You & Me

I wanted a girl. I dreamed of a girl.

I was meant to have a girl in my world.

A voice on the phone said you were a girl.

My little girl lovely, all blue eyes and curls.

I was a girl. I knew how to be one.

It just felt right that you were one too.

So many things to enjoy, me and you.

Reading and singing a lullaby loo.

I want to stop time and to keep you this small.

But I want you to learn and grow strong and tall.

I cherish your joys and cherish your fears.

For in a blink of an eye, the minutes are years.

I may tell you off. I may make you cross.

But goodness I love you with all that I've got.

It won't always be perfect but will always be,

that you are my girl and your Mummy is me.