Dear Millie Valentine, Can you believe it this week you are turning two?
High heels and high chairs
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That’s 24 glorious months on the planet Millie, and I for one am thrilled that you have graduated to the age where I no longer have to remember how old you are in months and weeks. Your mother has never been very good at math so the last 24-months have been challenging to say the least.
But now I can simply say you are two, and then wait for the sympathetic look that follows, the “Oh, you have a terrible two year old” look. Yes, it is true, you do throw the odd tantrum in Kmart, mainly over the big issues in life, like the fact the undies I bought you were not blue, or that I did not let you climb to the top of the shoe display. But we get through those tantrums because in the words of L’Oreal “Your worth it”.
In the last year you have learnt to walk and that quickly progressed to a chubby legged run, which you do everywhere because life, as you are discovering, is so wondrous that the only way to embrace it fully it is to race as fast as your little legs will carry you into the day before you, constantly reminding me of the miracles that are right in front of us, such as:
Babies: whenever you discover a smaller human has entered the room a high-pitched, exhilarating outburst explodes from your mouth, you run with glee to the poor BAAYBEEE to excitedly point out how extraordinary it is that it has eyes and a nose. Then you proceed to pat it not so gently on the head, while whispering gentle gentle, something you have learnt from every mother who has protectively hovered over you and the precious baby you are pounding.
Talking: yes, you have learnt to talk. Hearing you play with the all the delicious words you hear has made me realise just how much of our vocabulary is well, unsavoury. Take Buggar for example. That one slipped out when you spilt your drink. Both your daddy and I froze, unsure of which reaction would be the right one. Then just confirm our worst fears, we questioned you on the word. You looked straight at us and said, “BUGGAR!” Clearly pointing out that we are so bad at restraining the language that comes out of our mouths that our baby girl has learned how to use an expletive IN CONTEXT before she learned how to wipe her own bottom. I’m now cautious to say ‘dear oh dear’ when something does not go my way, but clever little you didn’t fall for that one. You now say “dear oh dear, BUGGAR’ when something calamitous happens.
Hugs and kisses: the best bit about your development to a two-year-old is that you have discovered the effects of your affection and gladly throw your hugs and kisses around to who ever seems to require one. The only way I can describe what it’s like to receive a random kiss or cuddle from you is, well, gambling. People ruin their lives gambling because they want to feel that winning feeling I feel when you run as fast as you can into my arms and hug me so tight and whisper “love you mummy” I can’t imagine life getting any better than this. Happy Birthday baby girl.
Love mummy x