Letters to Ella #3

Dearest, beautiful Ella,

Happy birthday my love. You’ve just turned three. Three whole years have passed since the moment I held you to my chest and and looked at your daddy with tears in my eyes, unable to fully believe it and finally able to allow myself to accept that I was to be a mamma.

You amaze me. Every day, you learn something and you use it over and over, testing it out, rolling it around, bringing it into conversation – its phenomenal. You have a ‘word of the week’, and its such a wonderful moment when I recognise what it is. Last week, it was ‘maybe’ – “Its time for lunch, maybe?” This week, its ‘think’ – “I’m just thinkin’ about it, mamma,” you told me on the way home from daycare – “I’m just thinkin'” Holy shitballs, my heart explodes at your cuteness.

A switch seems to have flipped in your attitude, too… so much more independence, such tantrums… although they aren’t, compared to some, bad tantrums; but if I look at you up til now and you now – they’ve gone from a 2 up to an 8 … that’s a big increase in a short space of time. And doing things yourself.. wowsers. EVERYTHING. You must do EVERYTHING YOURSELF. Even when you cannot possibly do it yourself. Not frustrating at all…..Hello Threenager 🙂

Your imagination – beautiful and endless. You like to ‘become’ Oceana right now… randomly, I’ll be talking to you and you will gravely inform me: “My not Ella – my Oceana!” And thus I must address you thereon. Its magical. Its also infuriating sometimes and has actually elicited the following response – “I don’t care who you are right now!”  But mostly, its magical.

Co-sleeping. You’ve never been a co-sleeper. I think, prior to the past 8 weeks, you had spent a total of 2 nights in bed with me.  As a tiny baby you slept beside me, but not with me; once you moved to your own room that was it. Maybe twice, when you were ill, you spent the night in bed with me but usually if you were awake at night, you’d come into my bed for about an hour and then I’d have to take you back to your bed. You just wouldn’t sleep with me.  Which was quite great, really, but on those nights when you were just a little bit off, it would have been nice to snuggle with you, and you never could.

Until now.

At the moment, every morning you wake up very early. You call out to me and I come and grab you and bring you back into my bed. Then we snuggle and give kisses and we snooze (well you do, I can’t, still – but I love that you do). It is so nice. We have so many tense, frustrating, hurtful, angry, confused moments during our days that I truly, truly cherish these beautiful, loving, peaceful cuddles and snuggles we are suddenly getting to share every morning.

Its just you, and me, like it used to be … and I love it. Of course I love your brother and our fambam of four, but I absolutely miss the ‘you and me’ it used to be and so these early morning cuddles are so, so precious to me.

What else? You’ve learned to ride a bike (you picked it up in about 12 minutes, no lie), you run like the wind (and crash pretty hard too), you can count to 18, you proudly tell me “Its B for Ella!” whilst holding up an ‘E’, you help me feed Harley and the chickens and Archie your pony.

You miss your daddy and you love your brother – even though he’s not quite big enough for you to play with yet.

You have regular tantrums, but they aren’t too severe really, and you seriously have such a sweet, loving and easy going disposition so much of the time that I have to forgive you the odd epic meltdown.

You’re trying to give up your day naps and its so horrible for me but I’m trying to be supportive…sigh.

You still aren’t toilet trained and though it stresses me out, I’m trying hard to follow your lead and go with the flow and never ever pressure you. But seriously – I’m quite happy to not have 2 kids in nappies, ifyouknowwhatimean.

You love pasta, and meat, and capsicum. You do NOT like mushrooms.

You are love, personified. And I am absolutely blessed to call you my daughter, my little girl, my beautiful tiny human.

Love you sweetheart.

x S – mamma




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