Mayday - 2019

I haven’t written to you for a while. I do it when I feel it. Sometimes it’s not there, and then it returns, on a breeze, willing me to put down our memories for the future. To write is to fulfil the requirement, and then I blow it away again, like a dandelion seed head.

So, you’re 8 years old. I’ve just been to watch you dance around the Maypole for the Mayday celebrations at your school. I will treasure these memories. You’ll be grown up before I know it and I can feel it coming. I don’t fear it, as such. I just feel it. The passing of time once happened way up in the stratosphere. It happened without me noticing. Like wispy white clouds blowing away in a blue sky. Now I feel it all around me like a paper thin silk veil blowing and draping over my body as I walk. It touches my face, my arms, my body and my legs. It’s soft and gentle, not heavy, just there to lightly remind me.

You have seemed older recently. You are moving from young child to older girl so seamlessly and effortlessly that I barely notice. But if I stop for a moment, and pay attention to your chatter, I notice that it has changed. You ask if I am ok a lot. You tell me about your learning at school. You tell me what’s happened that day on the playground and who has been kind and who hasn’t. You still want to write, to paint and to draw. You talk about creation. You ponder on the big questions. You talk kindly about everyone and you care so much. You put other people’s needs before yours and you care about those with less than you. You adore your cat, Penny, with everything you have and I will be forever grateful for that funny and impulsive day when we looked at each other and said “shall we get a cat?”

You playing 'rock paper scissors' with Penny

You read everything and you devour books with such joy, especially Tom Gates books. You also love Lord of the Rings and Minecraft. I never tried to steer you, and never will, but, somehow, I knew that you wouldn’t be a princess and unicorn kind of girl.

Tonight you asked if you and Annie could be sisters. I said it wouldnt be possible because a Mummy needs 9 months to grow a baby and you and Annie only have a month between you. You thought for a moment and responded with, “Mummy, tapir babies take 13 months to grow in their Mummies’ tummies!”

You still love babies and you talk incessantly about having your own one day. It was Easter a couple of weeks ago. We discussed that the Easter bunny is actually Mummy. You were grateful that you knew the truth because, apparently, if I’d never told you, you would have waitied for him when you had your own children and they wouldn’t have got any eggs! Oliver did your Easter egg hunt this year and he was much better than any rabbit anyway.

I’ve just tucked you into bed. I read The Royal Rabbits of London for your bedtime story. I’ve read to you every night that I could, since you were born and we still do our “moon and back million times” routine and sing “You are my sunshine.” You are changing every day before my very eyes, but you hold tightly to our funny little ways and traditions and that is one of the many reasons that I love you with every fibre of my being. See you in the morning sweetie x

“And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.” 
- Galadriel: The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings

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

Life is tough, but so are you.....

I am 39 years old. I've never been confident about my body or my physical abilities. I've never been sporty. I've never owned a bikini. I was never good at PE and it's the only part of school that I look back on and remember, as clear as day, that all-consuming feeling of inadequacy. That was just me. 

In 2011 something else happened to me. Your thyroid is a tiny little gland which plays a huge role in how your body functions. It regulates your metabolism and without it you gain weight and feel sluggish and fatigued. The thyroid gland also controls the chemical messengers that your brain uses to communicate with your nerves. Without it the messengers go all over the place leading to depression and anxiety. Sometimes the thyroid gland slows down. Mine is defunct. Completely gone. No thyroid function at all. 

Me in 2011

So here I am in 2016. With some determination of my own and a lot of help and support from the wonderful people around me, I now cycle, I run, I go to the gym, I eat healthily and more importantly, I'm happy and confident. I've filled that void. The one that grew and consumed me in young adulthood.

I sometimes feel judged for the choices that I make now. It's a funny thing. I find that really hard but I put it all out there for the sake of the stronger feelings. The positive ones. On top of combating all of my symptoms of Hypothyroidism and actually getting good at lifting weights, running and cycling, I can also help others. I can help friends who feel like I did. I can encourage the struggling nine year old girl who thinks she can't do it at Parkrun to run to the finish with us. I can help all of those people who think that they can't do it, or don't know how to. I can show the nervous new girl at the gym how to do a dead lift. 

Most of all though, I can give everything I have to being a role model for you. You run because I run and your competitive spirit is fierce. You are determined and brilliant and I want to keep fuelling that for as long as I can. If I don't believe in myself then you won't believe in yourself. If I reach for the stars, then you will too. You can do whatever you want to sweetheart and, as I have learnt along the way, so can I. 

You completed your 21st Junior Parkrun today. You finally got your marathon wristband baby x 

"Though she be but little, she is fierce!" ~ William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Paris ~ 13th November 2015

Last night there was a series of horrible attacks on innocent people in Paris. Some angry people committed senseless acts of violence in the name of their cause. And that cause is complicated. 

People have been reacting all day to the events of last night. We had a chat about it. You said that the people should have stopped and thought about how scared the people they were hurting were. Then they might not have done it. You also asked me how anybody could hurt someone who is someone's mummy or daddy. All perfectly normal questions. We talked about how some people don't know how to deal with their angry feelings and that sometimes they do bad things to other people. 

You, today - 14th November 2015

I don't have all of the answers. I actually hardly have any! But what I do know is that my natural instinct is to hold you close and pretend that all of this stuff isn't happening. To be scared and to shield you from the world. I won't do that. And I won't tell you that some people don't deserve our compassion, or to live. I feel that we need to break the cycle of violence and see clearly the underlying issues which are dividing our world. Without seeing clearly we react with violence in a fog of our own interpretations. As I said, I don't have the answers but I will always talk to you about what you see and how you feel. I won't cloud your mind with my views but I will encourage you to think about why people do things. You talked about Paris for a while today. Then you told me that something sad happened to you today as well. Whilst trying to eat your sweetie necklace, the knot on the elastic kept going in your mouth! A serious problem if ever there was one.

None of us can fix the world alone but all of us can stop and think about how to learn from it and move on as a community in the shadow of something as horrible as the events in Paris last night.

One thing is true, I am very sad for Paris today.

"Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding" ~ Albert Einstein 

  

The end of a journey

Yesterday, your 5 year Talipes journey ended (apart from a few stretches to do each day). After being cast from your toes to your thigh for the first 4 weeks of your life, to wearing a brace keeping your feet shoulder width apart with a metal bar for 23 hours a day for the next 3 months of your life, to wearing it at night times for the next 4 and a half years, this journey has been your whole little life. As I sit here today, that period of time has been your entire life. I know I've already said that! You couldn't sleep on your side, curl up in a ball, feel your duvet on your feet or get up in the morning. And now you can.

Waiting to be seen in hospital yesterday

I am not going to wax lyrical about how brave you were. Or how unfair it was. Or how strong you've been. I never have. The treatment was brilliant. It didn't hurt. We treated it as part of your life. Your routine. You knew no different and so you never questioned it. What I will do now is celebrate with you that you can now curl up in a ball, feel your duvet on your little feet and get up on your own in the morning and that, my darling, is something worth celebrating. Treasure the little things.

No more boots and bar

The memory I will treasure is you, my little 5 year old girl, walking barefoot along the clinical corridor of the hospital so that they could assess your walking. Your pale little feet on that big cold hospital corridor floor. They looked so vulnerable and I willed everything to be ok until I nearly burst inside. I wanted to hold you forever at that moment. 

And that's it. I started writing these letters to talk to you about your Talipes and they have become so much more than that and given me more joy than I can ever describe to you here. I hope, with all my heart, that you will enjoy them when you're older. Until the next time I write sweetheart, sleep tight, curled up in your little ball x

 

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

School days

So, today we got your new school shoes. Your first school shoes. My little girl is going to school. 

I have all of the usual feelings that mummies and daddies everywhere will have. Will she fit in? Will anyone be mean? Will she be able to get her shoes on after PE? Will she miss me if she falls over? Will she like her lunch? Will she be frightened to say if she has a tummy ache? I know in my heart that all that stuff will be just fine. So, here's what I wish for you as you start your educational journey.

I wish that you can keep an open heart to all the other children in your class. See them, hear them, listen to them and care. Be yourself and build friendships based on how people make you feel and always think about how you are making them feel. 

I wish that you are able to see and appreciate, every single day, the chance that you have to learn and grow in a safe, warm, creative and inspiring environment. Your school is the heart and the future of our community. The gift of education is precious. Always remember that. 

And I wish that you always feel brave enough to take every opportunity that you are presented with. Never think that you can't do something and always try and help the other children around you to try too. I hope you're never scared but, you will be sometimes, so I hope that you always have the strength to climb the mountain anyway. 

Your main concern currently is that there are, apparently, no toys in Year 3 and all they do is learn! "Can you believe it Mummy?" You asked in disbelief. 

You're my world sweetheart and I cannot wait to see what path you take and who you become. I'll always be here for you and I just know you'll be brilliant. I love you. 

"Wisdom is not a product of schooling but of the lifelong attempt to acquire it." ~ Albert Einstein

My baby

This weekend you have been very loving and stayed close to me. I've felt your soft little touch as I potter about the house, as I sit and relax, when we did Parkrun together and as I cook. Everywhere I've been, you haven't been far behind. I said to you that you'd been very cuddly. You said you just loved me a little bit more that day, with your palms upturned as they are when you're explaining something obvious. 

Me and you, Pescara, Italy ~ 2015

There are times when you drive me mad because you won't clean your teeth because your arms are too tired. Or you have a meltdown because you got ice cream on Right Bunny (screaming, "it didn't even land on her mouth so she could eat it. It's in her fuuuuuuuur!" - that happened today!) Or you behave as though I'm murdering you when I cut your finger nails, "not my little finger Mummy. It's just a baaaaaby!" Or you lose the tiniest dead leaf that you'd been keeping safe in your dungarees pocket and you scream that I have to find it, until something else catches your attention (that happened yesterday too!) 

But in spite of all that, my love for you is unquantifiable. It's beyond my reach. It's like outer space and it consumes me every day. You are part of me. My insides. Right now I want to hold you close and keep you there for ever. I want to freeze time with you at 4 years old. My beautiful 4 year old. I don't want to forget your sweet little voice chatting to yourself with your felt tips, your toys or your imaginary friends. Your perfect curls. Your big blue eyes. You told me that your little finger had grown a bit today. I said I wanted you to stay small and you said "I can't Mummy but I'll always be your baby."

My baby at Kokopelli Camping, Serramonacesca, Italy ~ 2015

Watching films together today 

I love you sweetheart.

Kokopelli Camping ~ Summer 2015

Laying in the camp garden I can hear crickets, a few people talking, and you singing on your picnic blanket under the olive tree doing your colouring. 

This place is just perfect. We are surrounded by nature. Entertainment is home made. The views are dramatic. I hope you'll remember them. If not, you'll see our photographs and we'll talk about our holiday at Kokopelli Camping. We've met some wonderful people coming and going from our mountain home. Young people travelling Europe with a tent and a dream. Families escaping the speed of the world. Everyone here is resetting themselves with nature, with the sunsets  and sunrises.

You've mixed with children from Belgium, Italy, Canada and the USA. Language barriers haven't stopped play.

You've relaxed in the garden, played on the terrace and chatted under the olive trees. It's peaceful here. We're peaceful here. 

The surrounding countryside is breathtaking. It makes you feel small. And alive. It's refreshing and real. 

You've drawn Magicland on your piece of paper. You say that every country has its own Magicland where the villagers gather to watch the moonpick flyers who live in Magicland. I think this place has widened your mind to thoughts of other lands. Where people speak different languages. Were the food smells different. Where the  wind whispers different words to you in the trees. 

You've changed a little on this holiday. You're more confident with other children and more content alone. Even if you don't remember Kokopelli Camping, I think it's made its mark on you.

Never be afraid to climb the mountain baby. Curious kids will have the best adventures.

You & Alfie ~ August 2015

I love you.

Being brilliant and being a kid

You're 4. You've never questioned your clothes. You want to be comfortable. You're a kid. That's how it should be. You want to have fun, play, learn, get better at things and love. 

You, being a kid this summer 

Today I saw a post on Instagram by a beautiful young women from a reality show promoting teeth whitening and tanning injections. Her post had >6000 likes in under an hour. In that same hour there were posts from equally beautiful women, in the same age group, giving everything they've got to be top of their game at their chosen sport with only a handful of likes.

Celebrity culture can be image conscious, empty and shallow. I hope you will be inspired by what people have achieved and who they are. Being brilliant is about real life, real friends, real achievements and real love. 

For now, just keep playing, having fun, learning and being the best you can be. You will care about how you look one day. That's normal. Just make sure the other stuff is always more important. 

Mummy with some of the inspirational ladies that I've met this year

You this morning, my inspiration

"I believe we all have a journey. I was once a small girl from Sheffield, dealing with bullies and normal teenage insecurities, but I always believed. And when you do that life can get unbelievable" ~ Jessica Ennis

Parkrun #2

Last week you ran your first junior Parkrun at age 4. The youngest in a 4-14 age category you ran all the way round the 2km to the finish line. I cried, happy tears. So proud of you. My Talipes baby. 

Last week at the finish line

This week was a different kettle of fish! 3/4 of a km in you took a roly poly tumble and cut your knee. Clearly in pain you said you wanted to run on but after the 1km mark you had to stop. 

There were tears. I was devestated. A combination of you falling on the fun downhill where you like to put your hands in the air and shout "weeee", your disappointment at not finishing and your little hurt knee. All of that rendered Mummy useless at helping you through it all. Practical Mummy with the good advice, she wasn't there. Sniffy rubbish Mummy, she was. I feel your disappointment tenfold and I'm pretty useless at dealing with it. 

Still, a cuddle and an icecream later and all you wanted to do was limp over to the route and run the last km with Mummy. I told you you'd done 1km which was still pretty good but you sniffed that it wasn't 2. So, we ran the route together, on our own, and my determined little girl ran all the way to the finish. 

Of course I want you to be successful but more than anything in the world I want you to keep a tight hold of that steely determination that I saw today. "I didn't give up, did I Mummy?" I cried again. I am so proud of you sweetie. 

Quick stop for a swig of water...

....and to tell me to keep up

Finished! 

What I have learnt today is that things have to go wrong for us to learn how to be stronger. Without pain and failure we have nothing to overcome and learn from. Today you surprised me with your strength. My cautious and careful little girl is also quite brave and determined. 

"Here's to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them" ~ Unknown

I love you.

Saturday May 2nd 2015

I haven't written to you in a while. We've been busy. Life is busy.

It's May 2015 and there is a general election next week. People will vote for who they want to lead our country. It won't mean anything to you at the moment but it will. You will learn about politics and I hope that you will care. Listen to everyone's views. And I mean really listen. Don't close your mind too soon. Form your opinions based on what your heart and mind are telling you. There are a lot of simple theories out there. The truth is often more complex and harder to understand. You should try. Your life will be richer for it.

Today it was just us. We had pancakes for breakfast, watched Mary Poppins, baked a cake & practiced on your bike. You are most content at home. It is definitely where your heart is. Your safe place. I was like you at your age. I remember it clearly. I loved my home too. I remember only glimpses of the house that was my home when I was four. Like the glimpses of your home that I took today....

 Over the garden gate

Our spring wisteria

At the park whilst you play

Watching Mary Poppins

Learning to ride

You've just informed me that the wind is changing and Mary Poppins has to go now. It's also time for your bath. 

I'll see you tomorrow sweetheart. I love you.

You and Ted

"Winds in the east, mist coming in. Like somethin' is brewin' and bout to begin. Can't put me finger on what lies in store. But I fear what's to happen's all happened before." ~ Bert, Mary Poppins 

Mother's Day, Italy, cycling and dreams

You It was Mother's Day last Sunday. You were at your cousins' house for the day. Looking out of the garden room that morning at the snowdrops and the blackbird building a nest, I felt a pang of sadness that we weren't together. We spend every weekend together though and I knew that this little adventure would be good for you, and me. 

I don't want to just work, pay for things and exist but to really live each moment. It may be that we can't have fancy expensive holidays but I promise that, instead, we'll do the things that we really want to do. This summer we'll have a rustic Italian mountain adventure. We'll pack up the car and drive all the way across Europe with our closest friends taking in all of the sights and sounds along the way. We'll stop at alpine cafes. We'll cross mountain passes. We'll stay in pretty towns and we'll BBQ under the Italian mountain stars when we arrive. Real life and real places.

http://www.myfamilyandabruzzo.com/?m=1 (Auntie Lulu's blog about where we're going) 

You and Alfie will love your summer holiday together (not forgetting little Ralph)

We may not be together for every moment but I want to be one of the lead characters in your book. To inspire you to live. Which means that I should live my life, not just dream it, spending a little bit of time apart so that we can grow together in different ways. 

My adventure last weekend with the Women's Eastern Racing League

And home again

Today it's just you and me. You're chatting to yourself in the next room making up adventures for your toys to live. Make space for your own adventures too sweetie, and don't ever be scared to embark on them. They'll always be worth it. 

My beautiful little girl with a head full of dreams