To my Dearest Baby Big Girl,
It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is excitedly getting ready for the big day tomorrow- rushing to the supermarket to get last minute essentials, wrapping presents while listening to cheesy Christmas music or just spending time with family and friends. We are doing all that, except we are also celebrating an extra special day. Your birthday. Today my biggest daughter turns four.
I often joke about two things. Firstly that no Christmas present anyone ever buys me again will ever come close to the Christmas present I received on the 24th December 2010. My early Christmas present and the best one I have ever and will ever receive. You were worth spending the whole of Christmas in hospital for, worth not seeing my family for as they weren’t allowed to meet you or come in the wards as it was shut due to Norovirus, and worth every single Christmas being a teeny tiny bit of a letdown ever since. After all what can come close to meeting your baby for the first time at the most special time of year?
The other thing I joke about is that it’s a rubbish day to have a birthday and that Daddy and I should have planned it better. But actually deep down I think Christmas Eve is a pretty exciting day to be born. We do all those festive things, but with the added extra of it being your special day. You arrived into the world, my little c-section baby, to the sound of an extra special song that means a lot to Mummy and also to the sound of Christmas songs as well. You wore a Christmas hat from a cracker that Mummy pulled with the midwives at less than 24 hours old and we often said we should have called you Holly or Eve. There was Christmas music playing on the wards non stop, everyone was in good spirits and it was so quiet- there were only 4 babies born on the whole ward over Christmas time. That meant that you got extra special attention from all the staff.
And now my biggest girl is four. The one who made me a Mummy. The one who changed everything we thought about life. Who made us realise exactly what is important. That it’s the little things and that as long as we have each other, we couldn’t be luckier. I often stare at you and it takes my breath away- a weird emotion between insane happiness that you are mine and almost a little bit of pain about how life can be so sad and how it can change in an instant. I can’t quite believe you are four. Three still seems little, still clinging on to the last grasp of toddlerhood. But four is big. Four year olds go to school. Four is a little girl and there is no inch of toddlerhood left.
You make me so incredibly proud every single day. As I type this I have tears in my eyes. Some slight ones over the fact it is so bittersweet just how fast the time is going. How I wish I could make it slow down, or pause the good bits and replay them again and again. But mostly my tears are for just how proud I am of you. You are one in a million- kind, gentle, the worlds best big sister, hilariously funny with a dry, sarcastic wit even at your tender young age, and the most affectionate little person I could ask for. We have our moments, you can be a stroppy little thing, or have days where you drive me mad, but for the most part you are the loveliest, happiest girl and you brighten up all our days.
I am going to relish these next few months as come September I am going to have to let you go just a little bit and share you when you head off to school. I am, to be quite honest dreading that day as I just don’t want this stage of our lives to be over. But I know you are ready and you will love and enjoy it, just as you do when you go to nursery two long mornings a week.
Happy 4th birthday my darling girl. Enjoy being four and all the adventures it brings. Thank you for being you.
Mummy loves you more than anything in the world.
But as always you already knew that.