My darling Posey,
I adore you. You are most certainly one of the loves of my life, one of my all time favourite people. As an added bonus to being brave, clever and beautiful, you are totally hilarious. Today I warned that you shouldn’t eat the duck’s bread because it was old and mouldy and you looked at me and explained ‘I’m just testing it, Mum’. When Daddy asked you for a cuddle earlier after you woke from your nap you grinned and replied ‘No chance!!’.
You have an edge over my other favourite folks because it was you who made me a Mother. And I love it. Its the best thing that could ever have happened to me. You, your Dad and your baby sister make me happier than Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles. Being yours and Willow’s Mummy is the best job in the world. It is indeed a job, and a bloody hard one at that. The pay is terrible, the hours are ridiculous and then there’s the bum-wiping, but it’s most definitely the most rewarding, life-affirming role I could ever have taken on. It’s an honour.
Before you came along, I was just ‘Carly’. Now I’m ‘Mummy’, ‘Mum’ (you’re already too cool for ‘Mummy’) and often ‘Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!’
I’m the one you want when you’re poorly. I’m the one you usually want when you need a bedtime story (much to Daddy’s relief, The Snail and the Whale is just too wordy). I’m the one you want when you feel shy or nervous. It’s incredible. Me. You want me. I make you feel better. How amazing is that? You don’t like loud hand driers, but when you hold onto my leg, you can cope with the noise. When you were poorly and scared of being in the hospital, I held you and you calmed enough to get some much needed rest. You make me feel like a superhero. You make me so unbelievably proud too; your victories are totally your own, but they reassure me that I’m doing ok at this parenting business. Every time you say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ without being prompted, I feel a sense of achievement because I helped you to become the polite little ray of sunshine that you are.
You were, and still are, in a hurry to do everything. You rush around the house, you’re just so busy playing, learning, absorbing words and skills as you go. You smashed your milestones as a baby – you crawled at six months and as soon as you mastered going forwards you scurried over to the sofa, stood up and started cruising along it. You walked before you were one and your speech and vocabulary are incredibly advanced for your age. I wish I could bank all of the compliments you receive because it’s all you, and they are so well deserved. I encourage you, support you and correct you (except ‘snunk’ – that’s FAR too cute to put right) but you are the one who soaks it all up, embraces the constant learning and takes it all in your stride.
You became a big sister last year. Willow is almost six months old and you could quite understandably have turned into a monster when she arrived, but you didn’t. You are kind, helpful and sometimes even manage to be patient, which is totally ridiculous considering you are only two and a half years old. I want you to know, I appreciate it. I appreciate YOU. You make me a better person, you make my life easier than it probably should be, you bring me pleasure every single day and you challenge me to be a better version of myself. Trees blowing in the wind, aeroplanes zooming overhead, the bright moon shining in the sky – you love life, you love the world and everything in it. You inspire me to see the world through your excited, innocent eyes.
So thank you, Rose. Thank you for being wonderful, funny, adorable, strong, considerate and sensitive. Thank you for your crazy fashion sense. Thank you for being a superb sleeper. Thank you for being enthusiastic beyond measure. Thank you for being a glittering, swirling, twirling, stubborn mass of blonde ringlets. Thank you for being you. And thank you for making me a Mummy.