Five years ago today I skipped into St James Hospital with my Jo Malone candles, White Company pillows and laminated birthing plan (let’s all laugh together) and embarked on what can only be described as a smorgasbord of birthing activities. I walked into that hospital a 33-year-old woman who was sure all I needed to welcome you into the world was some comfy pjs and three-quarters of Mamas and Papas and I left knowing that all you needed was your mama. I am and always will be your biggest supporter, your cheerleader, your port in a storm. What I never saw coming was that you would be mine.
This last year, we’ve really slipped into our mummy-daughter groove and I’ve enjoyed the slower less heart-attack-inducing pace that comes with no major milestones paired with your growing independence. Weaning, CHECK. Potty training. CHECK. No wild changes, just a gloriously uncomplicated period watching you grow into the funny, smart, caring little girl that you are. Do you repeat everything I say? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes. Have you now added the first naughty word to your vocabulary this year? Absolutely yes. Can I help laughing as you sigh “Oh Crap” when we forget to put the bin out? No. I cannot.
Since your 4th birthday, it feels like we’ve been frozen like in a game of musical statues and I’ve got the nervous butterflies you get as you anticipate the return of the music when the whole room bursts to life. That’s because this birthday signals ALL of the changes.
We’ve got a new school, new uniform, new friends, new teachers and new morning routines. We have to set alarms in the morning and be on time and neither of us like to be rushed. We like pancakes in bed and leisurely mornings, so school has been eye opening. But how lucky we are to have these problems that come with being another year older. Ageing is a priviledge your Nana Gill once told me before I had you and it’s something that rings truer with every year we share.
Your fifth birthday will be celebrated with your new school friends and a few of your besties from nursery and it is a truly transitional time. There’s been tears and tantrums (mostly mine) but you’ve handled it like a pro, you’re an empath like me and our spidey senses have been truly tingling in anticipation of a big change.
This birthday had fewer surprises than the others because you’ve helped with the planning and packed the party bags with me which was cute. You’ve demanded a party bag even though everyone knows the birthday girl doesn’t get one and they are only for guests. Anyway, yours had a sequin dolphin keyring which is fixed onto your school bag, now a sparkly reminder that I can never say no to you. You’ve picked the theme (Minnie Mouse), the guest list and told me what you want to open, (a doll and an electric toothbrush are at the top of your list) and 27 of your friends cheered as you blew out the 5 little candles on your Minnie mouse cake.
The icing is your favourite part like mine. And Nana’s.
I’m just glad you only want a Disney theme this year and I don’t have to re-mortgage my house to take us to Disney Land just yet.
It has been a pleasure watching you make new friendships and settle into school life but while you’ve gained amazing friends, you lost a special friend this year and it’s been both heartbreaking and heartwarming to watch you navigate this. Beau was like a sister to you and I firmly believe that you were both destined to cross paths. I’ll be there to share the beauty of that friendship when you are old enough to understand it. For now, we will celebrate down here and send a birthday balloon skyward for Beau to catch.
Your first school experience was a morning I’ll never forget. No one was more shocked than you when your first school friend was called Remy (it was the first person we had ever met with mummy’s name) but no one was more amazed than me to discover her middle name was Bow. The coincidence was lost on you but in my heart of hearts, I knew she was with you on your first day.
To my greatest delight, your caring nature hasn’t waned as you’ve completed your first few weeks in big school and you regularly tell me you can’t wait to be a mummy or that you wish I was a child so you could look after me. I have no doubt that you will be the most phenomenal mummy one day and I already feel blessed that I’ll get to watch you navigate all that for yourself.
Baby girl, in life you will notice that certain people can light up a room, some people have an inner magic that others are drawn to, a glow that is all-encompassing. My darling, this is you. Watching you navigate life and seeing others feel warm and welcomed in your presence has been a joy. I never knew I could feel so proud, so blessed and so vulnerable all at the same time. I am obviously biased and think you are the best little human to walk the earth but my feelings are validated time and time again by anyone who spends even a small stretch of time with you.
Every day you walk through those school gates you get a little bit closer to the woman you are going to be one day and I for one can’t wait to meet her. Happy five years little one. Make a wish!
