Letters to my Children
You came into the world on Friday the thirteenth, during a summer storm. I say ‘came’ into the world, but it was more like dragged from me, kicking and screaming. You were a tiny, bruised scrap of rage and you screamed your displeasure at the harsh, cold world you’d been forced into, for years.. seriously, for years and years.
You were always a fighter; we had some battles of wills over the years and I regularly felt like choking you. Like when you made a bonfire in the middle of the living room carpet or painted your infant brother blue from head to toe, with gloss paint…..
But, your fighting spirit has brought you through some really difficult times and you’ve become a strong minded, loyal and kind human being. I watch you and I see that you’re evolving every day; I don’t know where that angry little scrap has gone.
Now my little lioness has a family, a pride of her own. I want you to know, I’m always here, I’m always proud of you.
Always be a lioness, just choose your battles wisely ❤
I love you,
When you were small, you were the happiest baby I could ever have imagined. You cried so rarely that I asked the GP if you were deaf ( I’d heard that deaf babies don’t really cry), but you were fine.
Then one day, you were so very ill, just eight weeks old, tiny and vulnerable. I remember hearing ‘Pneumothorax’ and my heart stopped for an eternity, before booming back to life, pounding in every cell of my being. You almost left me then, but in the end, you were fine.
It continued this way: Nursery school (I was afraid you’d miss me); Secondary school (I was terrified of bullies); first boyfriend (I was scared he’d break your kind heart); college; first job; leaving home, first foreign holiday…Through all this, I was a mess and you were just fine.
I know that whatever the world throws at you, you will be okay.
I am so proud of you, never stop exploring, keep taking the world in your stride ❤
I love you,
My Little Monkey (Spuddy).
What can I say to you, my only boy?
Well, after reading my letter to your sister, you should probably remember not let people paint you with gloss paint…
You were such a big baby, and hungry, I wondered if you’d ever be full, but you were full of mischief.
I remember you as a toddler; you made everyone laugh so much. I could not keep you in your trousers, your cousin, who was about three years old then, called you “Pampy” because she couldn’t pronounce pants and she thought “where’s your pants?” was your name.
Such a monkey boy, you never seemed to be at ground level, the only time you were was when you had just fallen on your head. How you escaped serious brain damage I will never know. I remember the neighbour knocking on the front door, asking me if I was aware that a naked baby was peering over the top of the 6 foot fence!
When you were three you were jealous that your six year old sister had her stabilisers removed from her bike, so you asked the next door neighbour to take yours off (Thanks Jake, bit irresponsible) and then you got on and rode it.
I’ve never known a kid quite like you for that, you really upset your Auntie the day your cousin (who was 4 months your senior) took his first steps; you watched and must have thought “I can do that” so you did. (She’s still annoyed by the way, but she blames me, as though I had somehow orchestrated the whole thing). I was more impressed by this because up until this point, when you wanted to go anywhere, you put up your arms for a big sister carry. I’d never seen you as much as crawl, you were such a lazy baby; a resolute bum-shuffler.
I’ve always known that you will achieve whatever you set your mind to, I don’t need to worry about you in that regard. I just want you to know, I think you’re growing up into a really lovely bloke and I’m proud to be your mum.
You can achieve anything little monkey boy, aim high.
I love you,