“The third child is always the wild one”

That is what they said.

What do I say?

I say he’s a soft bundle of energy and cuddles

The funniest drama-llama

King of hugs and kisses

Eager story-listener

The splashiest puddle-jumper

Super farm-machine-identifier

Dancing legend

Biggest joy-bringer

Biscuit-eating champion

Brick-building hero

Squishiest hand-holder

Fearless adventure-seeker

Favourite little helper

That is what this third child is

.

(although he is out of control, please send help)

Now you are eight

My tiny rainbow

Curled on my lap

Nestled in my arms

Just like when you were a toddler

Only there’s a lot more of you now

With all your gangly limbs

(But still a perfect fit)

.

I study your sleeping face sometimes

Absorbing every detail

Smooth soft baby skin

The pinkest perfect lips

Those enviable lashes

.

I said it then

And I say it now

You just might be

the

most

beautiful

thing

I’ve

ever

seen

I always made sure the magic was there

The tooth fairy notes, the bunny clues

Christmas was pure joy and I clung to it so tightly

Knowing one day I wouldn’t have these little wide-eyed believers

Knowing my heart would be a little bit empty.

.

And now you are Eleven

And we both know

But you still follow the Easter bunny prints with a smile

And make plausible excuses for the tooth fairy when she forgets

(Thank you)

You look to the sky on Christmas Eve and rush to get the milk and cookies

.

We both know what’s happening

Your kind enthusiasm is all for me

But I’m so grateful that you’re making this part a bit easier

The balance tips

The magic shifts

But that is love

I guess

I see you in that photo Mama

That happy holiday one on the beach

A family having a magical day, making full and lasting memories

.

I see you in that photo Mama

The sand-speckled faces of children smothered in suncream

(The expensive one that’s kind to skin)

Treats you brought gripped tightly in tiny fists 

Little beach shoes to protect little toes

Matching swim suits, so carefully chosen

Sunglasses and sunhats (please keep them on)

.

I see you in that photo Mama

The UV beach tent you battled to put up

Wipes and nappy sacks

Emergency rain macs

Many changes of clothes and just-in-case snacks

.

It’s a happy photo Mama

With the body boards you remembered

And bats and balls and frisbees and buckets and spades

And your magazine (which is laughable really)

.

I see you in that photo Mama

Even though you’re behind the camera

Like all these special pictures of their Very Best Times

But you made this photo what it is

And i just wanted to say although you’re not in it

.

I see you 

I inhale the sweet scent of you as you sleep

Snuggling into your soft warm hair

Smelling of organic wild strawberry shampoo 

How do babies smell so perfect 

.

Yet sticky

.

Oh

.

It’s fromage frais

I’m sorry I don’t know your birthday, that I wouldn’t recognise your handwriting.

I have never heard your laugh. I wonder what your voice sounds like, I can imagine it in my head but it’s just a guess.

Do you write with your right hand or are you a leftie like me? Do you dress brightly? I would guess that you do.

I’ve never been in your car, I don’t know what you drive. I wonder if you’re bad at parking like I am?

I wouldn’t know what to order you if we met for lunch, I’m not sure of your favourite drink.

.

Yet I know your deepest insecurities and your vulnerability in the middle of the night.

I know the comments your mother in law makes that strain your marriage. 

I feel your exhaustion in every night message and I feel your joy in every tiny milestone your little one reaches.

I know your toddler’s favourite yogurt and how you soothe them to sleep.

Emotionally I go through every doctors appointment and nursery visit with you, every work success you have and each rant when days are hard. 

The big stuff, the small stuff, the wouldn’t-say-this-to-anyone-else-stuff.

.

What a strange friendship this is, my online village, my tribe. 

How much there is I don’t know – but oh how special the stuff is that I do.

I thought of lots of lines today

Beautiful prose

Heartfelt words

Raw accurate truths

About being a mum

Your mum

But you interrupted

And I forgot it all

But it would have been lovely I’m sure

Although that poem probably wouldn’t reflect my tired mind

Quite as much as this one does

Is this my world?

.

Breakfast and tidying

Washing and clearing

Playing and negotiating and please eat your sandwich

Garden time, screen time

How is it dinner time

Baths and stories

Chasing and dressing

.

This is my world.

How blessed am I.

.

(But also please eat your sandwich)