Letter To A 21 Month Old – Dear Ameli

Hello beautiful girl,

Yesterday you turned 21 months old, and right now, I think of you and little butterflies flutter in my heart and bring a smile to my face. I wish I could formulate words to tell you how perfect I think you are. Of course, you’re a toddler. You refuse to pick up your toys when I ask you, and turn your head away pretending you can’t hear me when I ask you to go call Daddy for me. You’re by no means ‘perfect’, but you are my perfect little girl.

You give me the most beautiful kisses I’ve ever had.  You suck in your cheeks like a goldfish and stick out your lips, and your little lips are like all my Christmases and birthdays in one.  You make my heart flutter. I remember when I used to give you kisses, before you understood about kisses and I wondered how we teach – or in fact why we teach – affection with kisses. But it worked out well for me.  They’re the highlight of my day.

You moved into your own bed at the end of last month, and you took to it so well, I was extremely proud of you. We did our best to make it an exciting thing for you, and it worked, really.  From your first nap in your big girl bed, you’ve slept well in it. It’s a normal single bed, without rails or anything, and you’ve been so good about sleeping since you’ve been in it. You’ve returned to your before-we-moved-around-all-over-the-place schedule of sleeping till midnight, waking for a feed, and then sleeping on again, although it’s when you wake for a feed that you come into our bed now. I love that you get out of bed and run into our room. And I love how you say “mummy?” and I love waking and lifting you into our bed, nursing you as we both drift back to sleep.

Your vocabulary is pretty amazing. I always thought it would be difficult to teach a child how to speak, but it’s been so easy with you. No one believes me that you can have a pretty good conversation though, because as soon as I bring a phone, skype or video camera near you, you go shy and quiet. It’s wonderful though. For example, I say, “Can you go call Daddy for dinner?” And you’ll run off, climb the stairs and say “DADDY EAT FOOD”. Yes. In capitals. Quiet isn’t in your vocabulary yet!

We’ve started gardening together this month too. We rake the ground, me using a big fork, you using a hand fork, we make holes in the ground and pop seeds in. So far our runner beans and pumpkins have sprouted, and it’s thrilling to show you the baby plants.  Almost as thrilling as seeing you plonk yourself down on the ground next to me and digging in the sand.  I love your dirty little finger nails – they’re evidence of a life outside.

Speaking of babies, we found out this month that I’m expecting another baby. I’ve had very mixed feelings on this. Of course, I’m thrilled – I can’t tell you how excited I am to be bringing another little life into the world, but at the same time, I have such a sadness inside me that an end is coming to our ‘usness’, and that we’ll have to make space in our relationship for another child. I know it will be okay, and I know it will be a great, great thing for you, but I will miss us. Just you and me.  (And Daddy of course, but I’m talking about you and me now.)

But, one day when you’re all grown up, you’ll be glad you have a brother or sister.  And I wanted him or her to be close to you in age so that you don’t have to be a little mother, but a big sister. That’s my hope for you my beautiful girl. That you will be a wonderful big sister.

I love you so much.

Mommy