Saturday, 15 February 2014

She will turn 5 next month

... and she is still my baby.
She is still the person who has changed my life more than any other.
She made me a mummy.
A mother.
She made me admit I am not in control.
For nearly 5 years she has controlled me.

She has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.

And she amazes me.
As she arrives home from school and reads her school books to me.
As she speaks Welsh and English as is convenient to her.
As her love of her brothers shines through.
As she plays out her scenes from school, with her as teacher.

She will turn 5.
She has learned to crawl, walk, run and jump.
She has moved to a bed.
She has given up dummies.
And bottles.
She has learned to use a toilet.
She has a full set of teeth.
She is conversant, with anyone who has the patience to listen.

She is amazed by her knowledge.
She loves to teach.
She had taught us how to count to 10.
She has taught us our 2's and our 10's.

We still rely on the 'naughty step'.
We still struggle with not prioritising our singleton, when the boys are also singletons that were born on the same day.
She remains 'daddy's girl'.
I have spent nearly five years trying to raise a child to not differentiate between male and female.
And somehow I have a nearly five year old who loves pink and princesses.
And rainbows, and mermaids.
And numbers.

I look at her.
And some days.
Some days I want to say to Mr J this is what you created.
Some days I want to wrap her in my cotton wool forever.
Some days I look at her and see so much of me.
Every day I am proud.
I am proud that she expresses herself.
Whether she be an extrovert or introvert.
A tomboy or a girl's girl.
She is a part of me.
She will be free.
But more importantly.
She will be five.

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