I was battling with the kid this morning, like I often do. Silently begging her to stop scream-singing whilst waiting in a queue, quiet muttering at her to please stop kicking that person in front, please stop shouting at me, why Olivia, why do you have to be like this. Then some thoughts popped into my head, ‘Why is she like she is, why does she have to be like this, why is she so confident, why can’t she be like other children who just sit in the buggy patiently waiting’ and then, I felt a huge wave of guilt for daring to think this. How could I think this? She is how she is, right?
My husband and I had a face-draining, heart stopping, stomach churning moment with the kid recently. One that has imprinted a thought to the forefront of my mind. A thought that seems so obvious given that I am now a mother and together we are parents, but sometimes we forget this one thing, this one simple thing and that is, ‘responsibility‘. Our responsibility towards our child. This isn’t a dramatic story (I realise that I may have built it up slightly) but the situation was enough to make me stop and take stock, and sometimes as a parent a reminder is needed.
The words to this letter have whirling around my head for a while now my darling daughter, really since the day you were born, but the time hasn’t felt right to put those words down until now. I wanted to write you a letter at each birthday but I think this one alone will hopefully cover the last two years of your busy little life. I’ve got so many things to say to you, to tell you and to let you know about, but I’ll try to keep this simple and not prattle on too much. I’ll get the slushy stuff out of the way first, okay?