To my darling daughter.
I am sure you don’t quite get the significance of the fact that today is your birthday.
Yup, you have been here, with us for a whole 2 years, or 24 months, or 104 weeks or 730 days, I could go on but I don’t have a calculator so my maths could embarrass me.
So, what can I tell you about life since you arrived?
Plenty actually, we have been to two weddings, had a holiday in Centre Parcs, given you a baby sister and endured two horrible stays in hospital.
Going through the last two years would be a slog to be honest so I thought I’d try and get the creative juices flowing and write you a little verse to say Happy Birthday.
Since you arrived in Slough that September,
You’ve given us all lots of times to remember.
(Obviously there have been times to forget too but they don’t work too well with a slushy, sentimental poem. I’m talking specifically about the poo in the bath phase)
I’ll start again, sorry.
Since you arrived on that warm September day,
You have changed my life in every possible way.
(Yup, I used to be able to have a shower, a wee and apply my make up in blissful silence)
Bloody hell, I’ve done it again. Sorry.
Third time lucky hey…
*clears throat*
To my beautiful baby girl.
Before you arrived I was so worried that I wouldn’t be like all the other mums.
I was worried that I wouldn’t be that bothered about bring a mummy and I wouldn’t love you with every fibre of my being.
I worried that it wouldn’t come naturally to me and people would be able to tell from a mile off that I was a fraud.
I worried that I would do an horrendous job and you would prefer to be with anyone other than me.
But, happily, two years on from a very long weekend in Wexham Park, I can tell you this.
You have given me crows feet and eye bags and stretch marks.
and a heart that aches if ever you are unhappy.
You have made me look at your daddy in a whole different way and love him even more than I did before you arrived.
You have made me into an utter soft touch. Someone that now cries at the drop of a hat.
You have made me stronger than I thought possible and more vulnerable than I would ever choose to be.
You have made me proud and frustrated and knackered and humble.
You make my heart melt whenever I see you babbling to your baby sister.
You make me weak at the knees when you hug me so seriously around my neck when I wake you up in the mornings.
You make me laugh when I see your little legs going a little bit too fast for your body.
You make me crazy when you cry without any tears because I am picking up your sister first.
You make me worry about politics and feminism, E numbers and organic farming in a way I rarely did before your arrival.
You have changed me almost completely both inside and out and I wouldn’t change any most of it for a second.
Happy Birthday my gorgeous, gorgeous little baby.
I hope you have a wonderful day.
All my love,
NB- the final photograph was taken by the brilliant Rosalind Grace, my friend. I absolutely love it.
If you are Surrey based and need some snaps doing, she is your gal. Fab. 🙂

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  1. […] you may recall that I wrote your sister a very earnest sort of poem on her second birthday. Yours, my darling is a little bit different because, you are a lottle bit […]

  2. […] you may recall that I wrote your sister a very earnest sort of poem on her second birthday. Yours, my darling is a little bit different because, you are a lottle bit […]

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