Dear Molly, tonight you were sad...

Being your Mummy is not always rose tinted. But that's life. Tonight was one of our more challenging evenings as tiredness caught up with you. Because you're little you can't walk as far as me and I have to remember that your emotions are the same. Your tired state meant you couldn't cope with "no" or "bedtime" particularly well and tonight it brought on a tantrum. 

Your little tantrums have the same phases regardless of the cause. Feet stamping-shouting-fake crying-me getting annoyed-real tears because Mummy's sad-lengthy recovery from the whole episode-hugs and repeated "that's why I love you Mummy"s  so as not to leave me thinking that this whole affair was because you didn't. Well, for the record, I love you too baby. Somehow even more when you have a tantrum because I want to reach out to you. To make you better. To dry your eyes. But I have to accept that, sometimes, you just need to work it out yourself. That's the best way to deal with your problems I know that. I also know that I can't fix everything but I will always be here when you're ready for a cuddle and will try to make you smile again.

You calmed down and through the last of your sniffs and sobs you told me that you did "want to be an explorer and think of all the animals who live in the sea Mummy". It's your favourite bath game and five minutes earlier you didn't want to do it "that's why I am too sad Mummy." I was glad your sadness had subsided enough for normality to return and was delighted when your sad little face turned into the tiniest of smiles at my, frankly quite poor, octopus impression as we duly thought of all the sea creatures we could. 

And all warm and dry in your pyjamas you climbed on my lap and asked if we could read The Smartest Giant in Town again. We read it last night when you weren't sad and I think you wanted to recreate that feeling by reading it again. I sometimes misjudge how much you take in. I think my stories just entertain you for that night and that you just look at the pictures but you really do listen. Tonight you made me stop at the end so you could tell me that "his shirt is on a boat as a sail for a goat. His tie's a scarf on a cold bee(gi)raffe. His belt helped a dog cross a bog and his shoe is a house for a mouse." And then you declared how kind George was and how all the animals were really happy now. I told you I was really happy too and we had a big cuddle. You made me sing the "sunshine song Mummy" (a last bit of reassurance that everything was ok) and I tucked you in to your little bed with Right Bunny and Teddy. Sweet dreams sweetheart. I love you moon and back million times. 

Mummy x

"You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away" ~ You Are My Sunshine, Jimmie Davis & Charles Mitchell (1939)

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