Today you are 8 years old, and I know I sound like a stuck record but where did the time go?
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago that I was worrying about what life would be like with our first baby and how we’d cope. Trying desperately to prepare the house for your arrival, worrying about the little things although they felt massive then *little did I know!*
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago I was crying irrationally in Mothercare because I didn’t know the difference between a vest and a babygrow, and taking longer than most rational people should to choose you a baby blanket. That your nursery was repainted (twice) because I thought you wouldn’t like the colour scheme.
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago that our fabulous midwives patiently helped me through the final stages of pregnancy, reassuring me to listen to my body. That Dadtired was the first to cuddle you and then announced you as a boy!
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago that you surprised us with your mass of dark, straight hair and your squeaky, high pitched cry. Or that my first nappy change was so disastrous it left you with clumps of cotton wool & Vaseline stuck on your bottom *so sorry.*
It doesn’t feel like 8 years ago today that you looked into my eyes when I first fed you, or that your tiny wrinkly fingers with scratchy nails first wrapped themselves around Dadtired’s little fingers. It’s bonkers how quickly time is whizzing by.
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago that we very gingerly put your tiny body into the huge car seat, spending 30 minutes trying to buckle you up before making a very slow trip back North of the river; bringing your home.
It doesn’t seem like 8 years ago that a tiny 6lb bundle totally shook our world, turning it upside down, changing and challenging relationships within the house and becoming the Queen of our home.
Mademoiselle, you’ve given me the best 8 years of my life, and it’s been a pleasure watching & enjoying you reach every milestone. Every memory is locked away, each as precious as each other and recalled with such clarity.
You’ve already achieved so much in your little lifetime, and as your turn 8 I’m ready to embark on the next phase of your life with you.
We’re noticing more strutting around in the house, never-ending chatter, sometimes about boys *ahem!* , music which I don’t always understand or enjoy, lots of laughter in among the odd strop often related to your homework or your brother. You’re a happy, confident, strong, young lady with a moral conscience older than your years and a determination to succeed which will take you far. You’re loving, thoughtful *sometimes too much* and a smart cookie to boot. We’re all super proud of you.
I'm Tracey, nice to meet you. Mummyshire was 'born' three years ago after we moved from London to the Oxford countryside. Here I chart our journey adjusting to our new lives, the challenges of being in the countryside & surviving parenthood.