Dear Molly...you're 3 tomorrow

You were snuggled next to me in bed the other day watching Dora the Explorer and you just reached over to me without looking and put your hand on my arm for a while. That silent little show of affection meant the world to me. 

Tonight you tripped over your Lego box and hurt your knee. You were also tired so we had a big cuddle afterwards. I kept asking if you were happy now and you shook your little head solemnly. I think you knew Mummy wanted cuddles and it may delay bathtime a little to extend the period of trauma. I said it made me sad when you were not happy and through the sniffs and sad eyes you put your little hand on mine and patted it. Just letting me know you were ok really....but not quite ok enough to go to bed!

It was your 3rd birthday weekend this weekend and we had the most perfect party for you. All of our close friends and family came and everyone had a wonderful time singing and dancing with Mr Melody. You declared it was the best party EVER on numerous occasions and towards the end you said you'd had "the best day in my whole life Mummy." I welled up a little because that's your longest measure of time and it's still so short because you're so little. Mission accomplished anyway. I couldn't ask for much more than having created the best day in your whole life!

You used the word 'behold' the other day. At not quite 3! You pretended to blow a bubble through your hula hoop and said "Behold Mummy! The biggest bubble in the world!" My funny, clever, caring, sweet, chatty and sociable little baby has been here for 3 whole years and they've been the best 3 years ever.

Happy Birthday darling. I love you to the moon and back a million times. Mummy x

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

To Molly, my chatty little girl...

You've always had a lot to say for yourself. Currently it is all hanging together in a beautiful blend of what's important to you, a fantastical make-believe world, what scares you and what's happening around you. I could listen to you for hours.

Today we went out and got you a new toy sweet shop as a treat for staying in your bed at night. When we got home we set it up and I suggested you sell sweeties to your toys. In your own voice you said "would you like some sweeties Scuttlebug?" Your deep voiced impression of Scuttlebug followed "yes please shopkeeper, I'd like lots." Your voice "well only if you save some for later." Silence. "Oh don't be sad Scuttlebug." And you bent down and hugged your little trike. Possibly here you were demonstrating that being told to save one's sweeties until later can make one a little sad...even if one is a trike. 

Clutching your new toy today

Scuttlebug waiting patiently for his sweets

Your favourite conversation at the moment is about when you were a baby. "Tell me what I did when I was small Mummy." And you do your funny little belly laugh at tales of backwards crawling under tables and mashed sweet potato on your nose. I think you get the whole 'baby grows into bigger person' concept but you occasionally throw me with a curveball comment like "when I am small again I won't be able to open doors." I try not to get hung up on the biology and just enjoy my sweet little conversations with you. After all, you also said tonight "when I was an elephant I used to have a trunk. That was a long time ago Mummy." You say things so earnestly and I love your imagination, even when it overlaps with reality.

Lunch in Cambridge, just before you sung Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to the other customers 

It rained a bit in Cambridge today. On the way home you asked "is it still raining Mummy?" I told you it wasn't and you shouted as loudly as you could "it's ok people in Cambridge. You can come out of your houses to enjoy your day now." You craned your neck to look out of the window and exclaimed "oh! They didn't hear me." And then you thought for a while. "Maybe Mummy, the people in Cambridge are all scared because one of them saw a polar bear? Maybe that is why they're not coming out Mummy?" Possibly your elaborate way of querying the presence of polar bears in Cambridge.

Keep chatting baby. It's my window into your little world and it's beautiful.

I love you x