Wow! Almost three years old my darling daughter!
My dearest Ma Puce, you are almost three years old!
How did this happen? Can it really be almost three years to the day that I gave birth to you?
The last year feels like it has gone by quicker than a New York Minute. But then, when I think about all that has happened in the last year, I realise that a full 365 days (ooh, Leap Year 366) must have gone by to fit it all in.
You started your year of being two as very much still a toddler – a Tinkerous Toddler! So this year has seen you shake off the last vestiges of toddlerhood and metamorphose into a long haired, long-limbed little girl. Your speech has gone from stuccato sentences of two or three linked words to monologues of epic proportions. Not always ones that are decipherable, but the important thing is that you knows what you are on about eh?!
The year has brought with it an increased interest in what you are wearing. I’m lucky that you aren’t hugely opinionated and have yet to throw a tantrum over an outfit, but you definitely know what you like. Yip, all those months of carefully buying ABP (Anything But Pink) have NOT paid off.
Tantrums are still only a minor occurrence. You can be trixy, but full on tantrums are still few and far between. I put this down to good sleeping habits in the main, because tiredness with you can usually be linked to a meltdown.
Talking of sleep, this was the year you made the move to a ‘Big Girl Bed’. We did it at the start of the summer and you still haven’t really cottoned on to the fact you can get out of bed and come through to our bedroom. I think we have the Gro Clock to thank for that.
We spent the summer tootling around on my bike, with you sat happily on the back serenading me with nursery rhymes, sometimes in English and sometimes in French. I’d be lying if I said my efforts to teach you French as a second language were first rate, but it was a magical moment to have you spontaneously start counting steps in French as we climbed down from a hill top village in the South of France in the summer.
France was your first holiday abroad and you loved going on an airplane, though you now think that every plane we see is headed to France. For you, France equals abroad!
Nursery school has played a big part in your year of being two. You started off doing a couple of hours on a couple of days per week. It was a shaky beginning, with some heartbreaking moments for both of us. I was careful to keep my tears from you on the occasions that yours were too much for me. But you’ve grown in confidence at your own pace and your capability to be happy without me around has given me a bittersweet happiness!
Recently settling into doing five mornings per week at your little Montessori School has brought with it friendships outside of the ones that I have connected you with and the joy for us of seeing you in your first Nativity Play – our gorgeous angel!
Ballet came onto our radar in the autumn, I’d had an idea that I would like you to start at the same age that I did and right on cue your interest was piqued by a Cbeebies show featuring ballerinas. Unfortunately the first ballet school I chose wasn’t the greatest at understanding the needs of small children, but your new ballet teacher is nothing short of marvellous and I love watching you and the other girls practising their Good Toes Bad Toes and galloping round the room.
Over the last couple of months you’ve become most fascinated with dollies, babies and all that they entail. You said to me only last week, “mummy be careful how you cuddle me, because I have a baby in my tummy” and went on to tell me that the baby will go down your leg, round and up out of your mouth to be born. So I guess we have to cover off the basics of pregnancy soon.
This Christmas just gone was the first that you really started to understand what it is all about. You wrote your first letter to Santa, which contained a very bizarre request that had us all in hoots and thank you for all your ‘help’ decorating the Christmas tree.
So here we are today, on the final countdown to you turning three years old at the weekend. Each year that goes by softens the painful memories of a long and drawn out labour and your life coming close to being over before it had even begun. And each year your Daddy and I thank our lucky stars that you made it and that you are such a joy, our beautiful, bright and mischievous little bundle of energy.
Happy birthday my darling.