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.