My Dearest Willow,
You turned two. Beautiful two. My favourite age (although I’ve said that every other age since you’ve been born). I thought I would be sad that you are two, but I am not. Mainly because everyday, without fail, you make make me smile; you make me laugh. Sometimes my heart laughs in silence because I don’t want you to notice I’m watching. Sometimes there are fits of giggles that burst right out of me there’s no hiding from them. I will never tire of your quirkiness; the way you know how to make me smile. I’m sure you’re mine for this very reason because without you I would smile and laugh that little bit less in my existence and who wants that? I’m excited to watch your little sense of humour blossom and look forward to each and every day we can grow together.
However my sweet child, in growing older, my hope for you, or perhaps more me, is that between now and three, you never learn to articulate thank you with precision because frankly I’m hoping that even beyond three you will continue to look up at me in a voice more beautiful than any other, and say “tank-yoo mum-maa”. I hope you will always fight with the chair as they gobble up your babies. I hope you never figure out how to bend the legs of your dollies because watching the way you try so hard to make them sit and stand at the same time is ever so heart warming. I hope you continue with your fascination for socks and tights. I hope you will always continue to ‘mother’ your 19 babies in such a way that leads me to think you’ll give me more grand babies than the other two combined. I hope you will always want to sit on my ‘lat’ for ever and ever. And please, please, never, ever, bend that little left arm that you keep straight when you’re giving me a cuddle – I adore the way you tuck it under your own belly as I hold you in my arms.
Sweet child of mine. Happy, happy birthday.
Your forever loving mummy
xx
by nicolera
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