A number of tricky subjects....

One of my hardest challenges, as your mummy, is to fight my overwhelming urge to protect you from everything. To wrap you up in the softest wool and to keep you warm and happy as I did when you were born. 

The easiest thing is to try and protect you from experiencing sadness, rejection or disappointment and to shield you from the world, the real world. But that would be wrong. I cannot bear you being sad but, more than that, I cannot bear the thought of you living in a sterile bubble in which you don’t feel the raw emotions which will shape you as a little person. It is a battle though. A battle against my instincts. I can't fight them but I can work hard to manage them so that they don't smother you. Tell me if I smother you. I'll try to stop. Nature's not my call. Nurture is the one I can work on. This is where I can try to prepare you for the world in the best way I know how whilst giving you the space to find your own way too  

Yesterday you told me about your day at school, well, the bit that stood out for you: 

"My best friend got shut in a drawer. I told the teacher and she helped him to get out"

I told you it was good to look out for your friends.

"It is Mummy. And if one is missing you should always check the drawers"

A good life lesson.

This week also saw you asking me what the army do? I explained that they protect our country and keep us safe. "From aliens, and bears and dragons you mean Mummy?" You're not ready to hear about holy wars and the liberation of far off nations from oppressive regimes. We'll stick with bears for now. "Mummy? Bears only live in hot countries, right? It's cold here isn't it?" It's ok sweetie, there are no bears here....aside from the friendly one from Peru that is....

And tonight, my biggest parenting challenge to date. "Mummy, you won't ever die, will you?" Help! Caught off guard, I couldn't speak. You saw my panic. You read my facial expression. The edges of your mouth turned down. The tears started rolling. I spluttered some incoherent words about everyone dying one day and moved on as fast as I could. You were sobbing. Too late. Through the sobs, "I don't want you to die Mummy." What do I do? What do I do? "MUMMIES NEVER DIE!" I blurted. Ahhh, calm. That went well. Another day maybe? We've got loads of time.

My crazy-haired baby

Night night baby. I love you.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly 

Birds fly over the rainbow 
Why then, oh why can't I?" ~ Judy Garland (1939)

Happy New Year ~ 2015

When you came along I began to experience everything again. Yet for the first time. Through your eyes. Through your questions:

"Mummy, how does the sugar factory make sugar?"

"Mummy, is Rudolph's nose bright to light the way so Father Christmas doesn't crash the sleigh and drop all the children's presents?"

"Mummy, when I was a baby, how did I tell you if I was cross?" 

We were listening to Simon & Garfunkel in the car today. You laughed "A person can't be an island, can they Mummy?" 

I try to impartially explain the world to you in a way you will understand. You have so much to learn. You missed going to "big school" in September because you were born in October. I hated your disappointment when your friends went up but now I see you, the oldest in playgroup. Helping the new "little ones". Looking after them. Showing them the way and taking on responsibilities. The curriculum can wait. I love watching you care and grow as a person. A brilliant little person. 

You don't ever want anyone to be disappointed. You won't ever pitch those around you against each other and won't tell anyone that they have failed or lost without rubbing their arm to comfort them and telling them that "practice makes perfect". No prejudices. You just care. I can't quite believe that my tiny little baby is now someone that I learn from every single day.

At 4 years old, with 2 imaginary friends, a keeness for all things pirate, a strong sense of empathy, an unbreakable bond with a rabbit comforter and the prettiest bright blonde curls you are a perfect mixture of your own personality and the world around you. Don't ever change baby. 

Because of you I've learnt to look after myself, to better myself, to be strong and to be your inspiration. I want you, my little girl, to be whoever you want to be and to aim for the stars. If I don't, I can't expect you to. 

Happy New Year sweetheart. I love you.

"For last year's words belong to last year's language 

And next year's words await another voice." ~ T.S.Eliot, Little Gidding (1942)

We're nearly there

When you had been in my tummy for 20 weeks, they took your picture inside my tummy and they told me that you had Talipes (Clubfoot). I was scared and sad. Now, I read posts on sites from other parents who are scared and sad at the beginning of their journeys. I want to share our journey to help the other mummies and daddies. I've written about this before (http://laurahigh1977.blogspot.com/2014/06/chapter-1-talipes.html) but now...now we are less than a year from never having to wear your boots and bar again and we should always remember this journey, for us and for others. 

I took this picture today. 4 years ago, we didn't know what our Talipes journey had in store for us

A lot of people don't know what Talipes is. A lot of people think that Clubfoot means one big foot. It doesn't. Here's a picture. It just means that your foot is twisted around the wrong way.

Image via nursingcrib.com

After about 4 weeks of casting, the doctors had repositioned your little foot and you were ready for your boots and bar. These would hold your feet shoulder width apart with a metal bar for 23 hours a day for 3 months then 12 hours a day until you were 5. Until you were 5! That felt like forever. It may be a cliché but time flies by so fast. To the other Mummies and Daddies just starting out on this journey, never, ever dwell on the Talipes or you'll miss the other things and that stuff is way more precious. 

I cried all my tears when you were in my tummy. Once we had embarked on the journey together I was done with my tears and was ready to be strong with you. My only focus was making sure that your treatment was no big deal and as routine as putting on socks. It worked. You slept through for 13 hours a night from being a little baby until.....well, you still do. Your boots and bars are just like pyjamas. You don't question them. I mentioned tonight that you won't have them when you're 5. You looked sad and said that you'd miss them. You asked if we can keep them for your teddy.

Your boots and bar and Right Bunny

My amazing little girl who takes everything in her little, but perfect, stride x

"We can only look, behind from where we came...."

Today I have been more acutely aware of your advancing journey from being a baby to being a little girl. Your drawing has come on from just recognisable shapes to actual Father Christmas!

Your language is changing from the basic use of only the necessary words to, "my butterfly light catcher looks just so amazing Mummy" and, when I (clearly) won the race across The Brinkley Lion's carpark today you shouted, "we will see about this  Mummy" as you raced past me to the new finish line declaring, "better luck next time Mummy!" as you finished. Every day you sound more grown up and I don't see it happen. It's like trying to see a flower grow. 

In 2010, in your little Moses basket

This morning I watched you sing along to all of the words to Joni Mitchell's 'Circle Game'. 

I didn't know that you knew all the words but we've baked cakes, biscuits, quiches, jam tarts and all sorts of other things to Joni Mitchell for as long as you've been able to stand on a chair beside me. You call it "our baking music" and I am so happy that it has soaked into you. I know now that when you're older and you hear Joni Mitchell it will evoke memories of us. Her music will be woven into the tapestry of your being and will remain for ever. It's just how it works. 

You, today

"Yesterday a child came out to wonder

Caught a dragonfly inside a jar

Fearful when the sky was full of thunder

And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return we can only look

Behind from where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game...."

Night night sweetie.