Monday, 27 April 2009

A Post for LQ

My darling 2 year old.

I have seen so many blog posts over this past year. Many of them relating the love that other mothers have for their children. Other posts lament the inevitable hard times that visit each mother. Others have even written to their children on their special day.

Amongst the many posts that I have written about the drudgery of motherhood, I want to insert this one. This one has all the gooey trimmings. But for all its trimmings, all I really want you to know is that I love you. You started a little lower in my body, but have made your way up to my heart rather quickly. It beats just a little less when I am away from you and a little quicker when you give me a scrunched nose smile or when you take my face in your little hands to direct it back to where it should be - looking at you.

I am sure that from the moment you were born you have been determined to take a laid back approach to life. I have a feeling that this is you giving those doctors the middle finger - you know the ones that gave mummy that awful medicine that "encouraged" labour? How dare they make you come before you were ready. By golly you have shown them!

You have certainly given mummy and daddy time to think as you took your time rolling over (5 months), crawling (11 months) and walking (16 months). And now we wait with bated breath as you amble up to your next milestone - talking.

As I look back on earlier movies that we took of you, I can't help but smile with a lump in my throat. Your cute round face, always lighting up as we played drums with you, bounced you up and down on our knee, had you kick a ball. The only time you wouldn't smile was on the carousel at Disneyland. I guess nap time was just as important back then as it is now.

So much in only two years.

I can't help but worry what the following years will bring. Will you be happy? Will you grow to be a self confident young woman? Will I live up to the challenge of raising such a wonderfully cheeky person? I watch you play with your puzzle, saying thank you as I hand you each piece, proclaiming your success ("ta dah") as you place each puzzle piece, and I somehow know that despite my fumbling attempts at motherhood you are going to be one special human being.



Steph @ Diapers and Divinity said...

She's adorable. And you deserve her. :)

DeNae said...

So sweet. And my favorite part was hearing you speak! It just finishes the picture! (And that's the scariest waxing story I've ever heard.)