Monday, 25 March 2013

Dear Beautiful Boy... (Age 2)

Dear Beautiful Boy,

Today you are two.  I almost can't believe it.  Two seems so very grown-up compared to one.  That's silly I know, but it does.  I can't help but think of what a momentous change this birthday represents.  Up until now, we measured your life in months and, when asked, referred to you as two months, six months, eighteen months old.  Only once before did we refer to you in years - when you turned one - but then quickly reverted to months again.  It was an indication that your life had been so short that it still needed to be counted in months...weeks...days.  

But now, today, you are two and I'm pretty sure that we won't be referring to you in months again.  No one says a child is twenty-six or thirty-one months old, from here on in you will be two, two-and-a-half, nearly three and so on.  From today, your baby status disappears...well for most people perhaps.  For me, you will always be my baby, even when you're far too old to be referred to this way and are in fact acutely embarrassed to be referred to as my baby.  Just so you know though, that won't stop me; you are now and you always will be my baby.  At least I've given you fair warning about that fact.

We have spent the morning with you opening presents and laughing as you push your brand new pram around the house, saying "Herro!" each time you enter a room and "Buyeee!" as you leave it.  Your Dad is still convinced that a pram is most definitely a girl's present and so is "hurrumphing" in the corner as he watches you have so much fun with it, but it is most definitely THE present of your birthday (see, Mummy really does know best - remember that!).  If we dare take you away from it, even to take you to MacDonald's for lunch, we are met with howls of sheer outrage.  "It is MY pram and I am PLAYING with it - GO AWAY!"  It really is quite adorably funny.  

You've spent time with Nanny and Grandad, Mrs Godmummy and Auntie Jenni and have accepted some of the presents rather more graciously than others.  Your evident delight over Mrs Godmummy's teaset was very cute while your utter disdain for Auntie Jenni's clothes was outright hilarious - particularly the moment when Daddy tried to get you interested by putting the semi-wrapped parcel in your pram and you looked at it in disgust and dumped it out again before marching off shouting at us. 

But now that you are safely tucked up in bed, I can't help but think of how far we've come.  At lunchtime today, your Dad asked me how I was.  It wasn't a random question.  He wanted to know if I was ok or if I was revisiting memories of two years ago when you lay in hospital fighting for your life.  But I could in all honesty say that I'm fine.  I haven't been reliving those memories (well I guess until now when I'm writing about it!) today is just a celebration of you and of how much we love you.  I'm actually quite relieved about that because last year was very different.  We spent days reliving where we were and when; but this year, it's about today, here and now and how much you've grown.



It is a given that you are incredibly precious to me, I know that any mother's son is.  But secretly, I think you're even more precious simply because of what your life means.  When I look at you, hearing your cheerful giggle or even your howl of outrage, I know that this is precious because we came so close to not hearing those things; so frighteningly close to commemorating your birthday rather than celebrating it. But, no matter what the doctors said, you were (and are) a fighter and I am so grateful for that.  I truly thank God that for all the pain of illness that we have experienced in your two short years of life, that we have also experienced so much laughter and joy and love, simply because you are here.  


My precious boy.  Now that you are two, I'm certain you believe yourself to be absolutely, completely and totally grown up and that you know everything there is to know.  My darling boy who I unashamedly adore and always will.  Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up, you have all the time in the world.  Keep learning at your own pace, we'll do everything we can to help you but don't rush.  Remember the last line of your favourite story book, "I love you because....you are you."  So as the next year unfolds, no matter what you are - and are not - able to do, I love you simply because you are you.



I love you my darling, I hope you will always be certain of that fact.

Happy Birthday Baby,
Love
Mummy xo 

Sunday, 24 March 2013

In Which I Turn Two

On this, the evening before my second birthday, I have drawn up a Plan of Events that I consider to be acceptable as a way of celebrating everything that is wonderful about me (which is, my loyal readers will be unsurprised to know) quite a lot.

I plan to arise with the morning sun, or preferably slightly before it, in order to maximise the festivities on my special day.  To this end, I have set my internal alarm clock for 5:02am and I plan to notify Mother and Father that I AM AWAKE as loudly as I can.  (You will note that I am now far too mature to refer to the staff as Mummy and Daddy.  Now that I am nearly two, I have decided it is high time to grow up and allow my vocabulary to grow with me.)

The first thing I shall do, upon waking the staff, is to demonstrate what an exceptionally kind baby I am by considering, not my own needs, but those of Mother by initiating my Holistic Wellness Program.  You see, I have noticed that she is looking rather stressed of late and so, after completing extensive research, I have decided the best option is a Swedish Massage.  Since, alas, I am not yet responsible for my own funds, I will be unable to send her to a spa for the day and so I will have to demonstrate my own skills in this area.  I have therefore affectionately renamed this treatment Swedish Toddler Massage and it involves thumping Mother's muscles as hard as I can with Favourite Green Tractor or Favourite Remote Control Which Is The One That Sings Pretty Music.  I'm quite certain that Mother will be just as appreciative of this generous and kind treatment at 5:03am as she has been over a number of days in the past month.  I'm sure the bruises are entirely coincidental and that she must have bumped into something.

The next step in this gracious compassionate programme involves caring for Mother in precisely the same way that she cares for me.  You see, when she detects subtle aromas emanating from my pants, she very kindly pulls out my waistband to peer down into my nappy saying she is checking for chocolate drops.  Now, aside from the fact that this is exceptionally inconsiderate as it makes me believe that chocolate comes out of my bottom (which it doesn't, trust me, I've checked) it is, I know, a way of taking care of me by making sure I am always clean.

But you see, since Mother is simply so busy lately, I'm starting to suspect she doesn't have much time to take care of herself so it is important for me to do this for her.  To this end, after her massage, I will do as I have been lately and walk over to Mother, yank out the waistband of her trousers, do my best to pull them down and check her nappy for chocolate drops.  Just to be sure.  I'm not sure what I would do if I actually found said chocolate drops, but that's another story.

After this, I know Mother will take care of me and get me ready to go downstairs to begin my big day.  As you know, I'm not usually a fan of eating myself, but thankfully I have a new trick which is to pick up the food Mother has offered to me and to shove it into her mouth.  This is, I know, very kind and gracious of me, and so I will ensure Mother has a hearty breakfast in order to have the energy to wait on me.

Those tasks completed, I will be certain and confident that I have discharged my duty of care towards The Staff and will fully expect to be waited on hand and foot for the rest of the day.  My Majesty will be holding Open Court to which all are welcome (and expected) to attend with copious numbers of presents, cake, presents, sweets and more presents - all presented to me with suitable flourish.  I will of course nod graciously at those depositing such things at my feet and then proceed to flatly ignore them in favour of the 457,000th repeat of my currently favourite film, The Gruffalo; closely followed by the 508,000th repeat of the fantastic sequel, The Gruffalo's Child.

In short, I look forward to a fantastic day which celebrates the very important fact of my presence on this mortal coil and looks forward to all of the adulation I am sure is my due.  On that note, I retire to my repose to ensure I wake fresh and lively as a daisy, first thing tomorrow.  So for that last time as 1, goodnight world.

Love 
Adam x