Life changed 7 weeks ago. For all of us. But, I now realise, the change was biggest for you.
You’ve been poorly this weekend, and as I lie in bed, feeding your sister, I am reminded of the times this used to be you and I. When your feeds were not on the sofa as they now are, but snuggled up in bed until you fell asleep.
A weekend with a sick bucket has reminded me of how much you still need me. Your energy and wisdom beyond your years makes it easy to expect too much from you, to forget that just 8 weeks ago you were all I had to worry about.
You still need me. And I still need you. I’m sorry.
Tomorrow will be different. I will put the phone away. I will leave the washing up. We will play. We will read that book. (as many times as you want!). I will be Sula, or Ryder, or Marshall, or even Mummy Pig if that’s what you would like. When you don’t eat lunch I will keep my temper. I will not shout at you. When you make a mess (on purpose!) I will stay calm and encourage you to help me clean up. When you make mistakes (as three year olds are inclined to do) I will help you learn. I will hold you and help you.
I’m saddened now that I have not been as patient as you deserve. I understand now. You are learning, exploring, adjusting and accepting the new life we have given you. Big sister. A role you have embraced with full valour.
Your love for your sister is entire. Complete. Overwhelming. You too cried with joy at her arrival. You too sob at the idea of her growing. And each day, you too show new amazement at her very existence. “mummy, she’s so cute.”.
She has a wide eyed look reserved only for you. She watches you, and learns from you. She is already keen, it seems, to join in your games, to play with you, chat with you and grow to be like you. And if she does, I will be a very, very lucky mummy indeed.
To have two such wonderful girls.