9 July 2017

An old soul

I will look back on this time and I will forever cherish our indescribable bond. You, my little six year old ball of love, support, questions, tears, laughter and joy, are my absolute everything.

You sleep by my side, you snuggle all the time, you touch my arm to let me know you are there. I will always be your safe place to fall, your sanctuary and, right now, you are mine. 

Today, you asked me if I could buy a photo album to make albums of our adventures together. Someone once told me that you were an old soul. I see that everyday and am eternally grateful. Your depth of spirit, empathy and feeling goes way beyond your tender years. 

Right now, we plan adventures, go on evening walks and we lay together in the grass and watch the late afternoon sun shining through the treetops. I want to hold time and remember this forever. 

I love you eternally x

"A daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be your best friend" 

31 December 2016

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

28 August 2016

An ordinary Sunday

Nothing much happened today. I love you more than I am capable of every single day but, today, I loved you a little bit more. I don't know why. I wanted to cherish the feel of your little hands in mine, the smell of the top of your head and your arms around my neck. 

You and me today, in the hanging egg chair

You chatted incessantly on the way to the cinema today. You asked me if my car was a front or rear wheel drive and then explained the benefits of a 4 wheel drive! You told me that you still wanted to be a chef but asked if it might be possible to be an astronaut too. And anyway, you do like space so that might be the better option, and, if you were a chef too, you could cook in space. 

At the cinema you sat transfixed for the whole of Finding Dory. Afterwards you said that you were so happy for Dory as she finally had her friends and her family. You said that Dory's mummy and daddy must have loved her a lot to have stayed at home laying shells out for her to find her way back. 

We painted pictures and chilled out together for the rest of the day. It's my struggle, not yours, but today I didn't want you to go to bed, or grow up. I wanted to hold you near me forever. Having you has taken me to places in my heart that I didn't even know were there. I'll always lay shells out for you. We're not so different, Dory's mummy and me x

“We will never forget you, Dory. And we know you will never forget us.” ~ Dory’s mum

12 July 2016

The end of a chapter

So, here you are, days away from the end of your first year at school. I am wrestling pride and excitement with the sadness that comes at the end of something special. Like the last day of a holiday where the happiness is tainted by the knowledge that it's nearly over. Like the warmth of the sun fading into the night after a neverending summer's day. The end of an era. The promise of a new day awaits however. There is always a new day.

I feel so lucky that we have your school so close by. The absolute heart of our community it takes all of the children into its arms and gently unfolds their wings giving them the room to fly. You have flourished in your first year at Burrough Green grasping every opportunity with both hands and I could not be prouder. 

We've watched you learn and grow. You've transformed from a baby-faced little person who says 'inservatory', 'vasagne', and 'jungle sale' into a proper schoolgirl who says 'conservatory', 'lasagne' and still calls 'jumble sales', 'jungle sales' before our eyes. From having a desire to play to having a desire to learn you have more compassion for all of your friends than I thought possible for one little girl to have. You have a strong sense of justice and you show visible delight in learning. You have found your place in the hierarchy and I love that you care as much about your friends being there with you as you do about yourself. I will cherish every single memory of you coming home, excitedly telling me what you've learnt that day and still worrying everso slightly about the lack of toys in Year 1......

Keep learning, keep caring and cherish every single moment. These years really are the best years. Try your hardest and keep grabbing those opportunities. I know that you will be the very best that you can be. Don't ever change. If you approach the rest of your school years like you did this one then I know that you'll be just fine. You'll be better than fine. You'll be brilliant. 

I love you more than you will ever understand. 

Sweet dreams darling x

"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world." ~ Nelson Mandela