8 Years young,
Or old, what ever you want to call it, it was your birthday.
You have been here for 8 whole years. It really does seem like yesterday. My contractions started, the mad dash to the hospital to find out that I was only just one centimetre dilated and remembering mid way through labour that the Asda delivery was coming at 2 and no-one was going to be home.
I could never understand how folk could have babies that close to Christmas, but now I realise that it doesn’t quiet work out like that and when your old enough you will too.
A lot has happened in those 8 years.
You have grown up to be a smart, clued up cookie with a wicked sense of humour, a belly laugh that crack us all up and a temper, that quite frankly, I wonder where you get from but I know deep down that your my double, my mini me.
You are able to air your views when you think you are right and sometimes if your wrong.
Argue with your brother, ‘Ruuuuridh’, I can hear you say that now, it makes me smile. Do you remember when you corrected one of our friend’s at the age of 3 because they called him ‘Rory’. ‘It’s not Rory, it’s RUuuuuuridh’ making sure that they got the ‘U’ sound.
I remember when there was a bit of a squabble between you and Ruaridh. I sneaked around the door to see what was going on, only to see Ruaridh waving his fist in your face asking you if you wanted some. But you took it upon yourself to show him who the boss was by beating him to it and bopping him square on the nose. He dropped to his knees, then ran upstairs, sobbing to a giggling mummy.
Remember when you were wee you didn’t really have any hair but you still insisted on putting hair clips in. Now though it’s all about the hair styles, plates, pigtails and you really are good at it.
I love how you have started to clean the bathroom.
I love that you like to cook, knit, draw and express your creativeness. I love that I am your ‘bestest smell’ and your smell is my bestest too.
How you love using my camera’s and that one day you will be able to ‘ take on my business when I pass on’. Yes you said that and hopefully you will, but not for a few years yet.
Ena Grace, your are the best. Your a caring, smart, beautiful little lady. Who wears her heart on her sleeve, who won’t do anything she doesn’t want to, who is strong and independent and always there for a hug, or to kiss my hand at funny times of the day. I know we fall out and argue. I know I make you do things you don’t want to like picking your dirty washing off your bedroom floor, but these are part of life and I know you will tell your daughter to do these things too.
I hope that when your older, your going to head off into the sunset and travel the world. Come home, settle down and find your special person. I know you will have a house full of animals including dogs.
But remember one thing – if you have dogs you have to walk them, even if it’s raining.
I love you my beautiful.