A new year begins

The other day I read an old post from when you had just turned three. I can't quite believe that are now six. Six whole years old. To me, you are the most brilliant, caring and wonderful six year old. You cherish everything and I never want that to stop. School, family, friends, home, learning, adventures, music and stories. 

Whilst I had a coffee the other day, you decided to read a book filled with paintings. Well, you looked at the pictures. You said that one picture you looked at made you think of somewhere really calm. Where the day goes slowly and no one needs to rush.Then you got to one which made you feel lonely, tired and empty. "It kind of makes me feel invisible Mummy." I could listen to your chatter for hours. Your six year old thoughts are so mesmerising to me.

There is a lot being written at the moment about kids being kids, toys being toys, and gender stereotypes being outlawed. I want to see us really letting kids be kids. I have an overwhelming desire for us all to stop intervening. You should pick your own toys, pink or blue, dinosaur or princess. I want, more than anything, to just let you be. Sometimes I want to shout out loud for people to give you some space. I don't because interaction with other people is important and, well, it would be rude! I am also very aware that my need for peace is not yours. It is just a very strong instinct in me. I am most relaxed when you have the space to exist at your own pace and in your own way. 

I want you to relish in a nature documentary as much as in an episode of Paw Patrol. To watch Harry Potter, Star Wars, The Sound of Music and Frozen. To visit art galleries and antique shops as well as toy shops and funfairs. I just want you to see, hear, smell and feel all that the world has to offer and not just a wrapped up, glitzy version of what grown-ups think is entertainment for you. It is a fine balance. I type this as we finish watching Minions together on a rainy day.

We spend the last day of 2016 in London together. A lot of people say that 2016 was a really bad year. There is a lot going on in the world right now and you'll learn about it soon enough. I just want you to always remember to not to be scared, to be proud, to care about people and to give everything to what you believe in. Gently change the world by giving everything that you can in your little corner and through positivity and hope. There isn't enough of that stuff and you, my little girl, are brimming with it. 

At six years old you mean the absolute world to me. I love every fibre of your being and can't bear the thought of you being disappointed or being scared and alone. But I do know that you will feel these things. It will shape you as a person, a brilliant and wonderful person. I will keep giving you as many experiences as I can. That is what I feel that my job is right now and I will never tire of your expectant little six year old face asking me, "where are we going to go next Mummy?" I can trace the outline of my heart and soul in your face. You embody all of my hopes and dreams and I just can't wait to see where you take them. 

Happy new year my darling little girl. Let's go and make some more memories.

"For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice" - T. S. Elliot

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.