A Letter

For a while now I’ve wanted to write a letter to the Googy – and after reading other letters here, here and here, was finally inspired to do exactly that.

All letters like this begin exactly the same way. I can’t believe you’re 18 months old. Little people make time speed up. It’s true and not just something that old people say.

When you were born you were 10 days late, or fully cooked as I prefer to think of it. It seems that you’ve been trying to make up for it ever since and are never able to do anything quickly enough. At first I couldn’t see you, just here your cries – and what an incredible relief that was. I could see Josh’s face though. He was more happy, joyful and excited than I had ever seen him. He had really wanted a girl. And there you were. He’d wanted a girl so much he had flatly refused to even acknowledge that it was a possibility that you could be a boy. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I still think that.

You first smiled when you were only a few days old. And I didn’t pay any attention to the books that said it was too early for a ‘real’ smile. Because I knew you were smiling. You were such a jolly baby.And a snuggly one. Even now, as a fully fledged toddler when I pick you up, smell your breath and kiss your mooshy cheeks, I can still hold on to that bit of you that is still a baby.

Every age I loved. And I loved discovering who you were at every age. Once upon a time you cried whenever you needed something, now you mostly point. And the only word that you use consistently is moon. Because you love the moon. I have no idea why. You also love airplanes. When they disappear from the sky you look at me as though I had the power to bring them back for you to look at. Now, when you want to be picked up your arms reach up as high as they will go and you look up at me with those big blue eyes and my heart breaks a little bit.

Now, when I see you running around, I can’t quite believe it. So steady on your feet. I think you would spend all your waking hours outside if it was at all possible: rain, hail or shine. Even though you are fiercely independent and like to do everything yourself, occasionally you have a ‘I’d like to crawl back into the womb’ day and I treasure these because I’m going to blink and you will be embarrassed to hold my hand when we cross the road. That is how it should be. If I don’t love you well passed the point of embarrassment I’m doing it wrong.

Tagged as: baby, birth, letters, Riley, toddler