Soon my little baby V will be 2 years old.
Miss V, who has been "almost 2" for months, is now
really turning two.
Next week.
So lately I've been reflecting on the past two years, and last night, we had a moment.
We were nursing when Miss V stopped, looked up at me and said, "I'm happy. Are you happy, mum?"
To fully appreciate the kewlness of this moment, a little history is necessary.
..
When we found out I was pregnant with Miss V's older sisters, Daddy Kewl and I spent hours upon hours talking about our future. We talked about our own childhoods, about those family traditions we wanted to pass on to our children and those that we didn't. We talked about experiences we wanted our children to have, cultures and communities and people and places and ideas that we wanted them to celebrate. We talked about our own values, both as people and as parents. We imagined hundreds of "what if?" scenarios and would constantly throw "what if?" questions at one another, to "test our parenting styles". We also imagined thousands of different lives our children might lead and different paths our family might travel.
We laughed hysterically at ourselves, too, because we knew there was no way we could possibly imagine how our lives would change, or what our parenting styles would be like!
Then the twins arrived, and we laughed even harder.
The day we celebrated Miss V's impending arrival was also the day of Daddy Kewl's departure.
In the midst of my grief, I was terrified I was going to have a sad baby - That I would pass all of my pain on to her and that she would be born sad.
The thought that she was feeling what I was feeling and that this would be her first experience of life was almost more than I could stand.
All through my pregnancy, my greatest wish was for Miss V to be happy. This was the only scenario I wanted to imagine for us and the only "what if?" I could entertain.
I vowed that every day I would seize the happy moments and experience them with every fibre of my being. I vowed to find as many as possible, to celebrate them with my girls and to be thankful for them with all of my heart.
Next week, we celebrate two whole years of incredible, fabulous, amazing, magical,
joyous moments, and I am thankful for these with all of my heart.
Last night when Miss V stopped nursing, looked up at me and said, "I'm happy. Are you happy, mum?", I looked into her eyes and the purist joy filled every fibre of our being.
Yes, Miss V. We are happy.
Side view (image 1 of 100):
It's melting! Sort of!
Hellooo out there...
Side view again (image 34 of 100):
'See' shells:
The last one before bed:
The last last one before bed:
And of course, the morning after:
