Life just keeps hurtling along at break neck speed, and we find ourselves in mid September, once again. I’m glad for it. The sun’s staying up a little bit later, and though the winter hasn’t been particularly cold this year, it means that soon enough, the summer will arrive. The wattle is in bloom and it smells amazing, and the cherry blossoms out the front are flowering again with their beautiful purple hues. I love it.
Miss Ava, you’re two and a half. And a miss, for sure. We continue to monitor your health, and you continue to cause us concern. But you’re getting better, because you can tell us now when things aren’t quite right, and teamed with us learning what triggers you, we’re getting there.
You’re a pleasure to parent and also a pain. Does it make me a bad parent to admit that? I don’t know. You’re independent and feisty. You’re your own little person. Loving, and really just happy to just be you. You want to do everything yourself. You’ve started to hide and steal away to do things you know you shouldn’t – eating toothpaste, for instance. “Where are you?” I’ll say. And you’ll respond with “no?” It’s a dead giveaway.
You love to be outside. Pottering around the garden, finding worms, playing in the mud (much to my distaste), jumping “high up” on the trampoline and landing solidly on your bottom, scaring the birds, riding on your little plastic toddler bike.
What else? Since the last letter, you’ve learned to jump really well and run properly, instead of looking like an Olympic walker. You’re learning songs and don’t like it when I sing along. You love to make up your own and will repeat them time and time again (‘ballerina, ballerina, turn around, turn around’). You love to hear Colin Buchannan’s music the most. You love “bal-lay” and practice it, even though your only ballet lessons have been from the Wiggles.
You love hot chocolates and “marsh-mellows”. Your words are coming along well; your sentences are thoughtful and since you turned two, “Go-go” has become “go-lan” and since become “Logan”. You’re counting well, usually up to 11 correctly, though not always, and you understand the concept of “one” and “two” – or at least more than one. You’re learning your shapes and can draw and name a circle. You drew a picture of the sea. You enjoy craft time at playgroup, especially when it involves glue. Your favourite colour is pink: “I like pink, Logan like blue”.
You don’t like dogs and you don’t like people dressed up in those huge costumes. You’ve learned to cover your eyes and duck your head down to avoid looking at them.
You still struggle with food. Sometimes you eat like a horse, other days more like a sparrow. You won’t eat any meat other than ham or bacon on a cheese and bacon roll. But you’re trying new foods (with the help of a juice incentive) and will now eat potato, avocado and a few other things. You still love cucumber, fruits, muesli and weet bix the most. You can’t have too much of things like watermelon, strawberries, grapes and dried fruits as they upset your stomach, but you’re starting to understand you can only have one or two or those things. You love ‘chippies’, but again, too much of a good thing can be dangerous.
It’s interesting to note that you’ve become hesitant with touch. It has to be on your terms. You can snuggle up and give the most wonderful cuddles, but if someone wants to cuddle you or touch you when you’re feeling off, they’d better watch out. You’re not afraid to tell people to leave you alone (the method is still wanting to be a little gentler). I do love your cuddles. They often come out of the blue and are always welcome.
The other day you told me “I love ‘or, mumma. ‘Or love me.” (‘Or being ‘you’.) And another time recently, “‘or pretty, mumma”. I looked a fright that morning on the way to school, but you saw me: your mama. What an eye-opener it was. I promise to try and be positive about the way I look, and the way you look, so that you never feel less than confident about the way you look or who you are.
My big girl, I love you and I hope that your feisty personality sticks around. You might need some moulding, but I have a feeling you’re going to turn out alright. X