My Little Girl is three.
Although do not expect her to allow you to forget that she will soon be four.
My Little Girl is clever.
I watch her discreetly from behind my newspaper. She is sitting at the kitchen table, her legs swinging, her box of differently coloured, differently shaped wooden bricks scattered about her. She is building towers, utterly absorbed in the task at hand. Under the watch of her furrowed little brow, grand scenarios unfold. At her will, entire civilisations of cubes, triangles, and rectangles rise and fall. But in an instant the spell breaks and I feel suddenly and vicariously through her – like a dart – the pleasure of something clicking into place: “Look mummy!” she says. “I can make a diamond with two triangles!”
My Little Girl is funny.
She invents her own jokes that only half make sense. It’s the way she tells them.
My Little Girl is a thinker.
She even has a thinking face. Head cocked ear to shoulder, eyes cast diagonally upwards, nose wrinkled, and pursed mouth pushed seriously to one side, she can always think of a reason why. She demolishes my reasons as to why not. She begins hesitant sentences with “so……” and the sound of miniature cogs whirring is almost audible until aha – she has it! Yesterday when I said that we would do something special tomorrow, she sat for a while with her thinking face until she eventually said: “But tomorrow is always the next day.”
My Little Girl is a dare-devil.
A thrill seeker, she hurls herself like a little canon ball towards anything that looks even remotely as though it might propel her round and round or up and down extremely fast. We go to the swing park and collect all sorts of glances. With her curls streaming out behind her as her swing lurches wildly through the air, I can be pushing with all my might and still she will be shouting herself hoarse commanding, “faster, faster!!” I can only watch with awe as she swoops and squeals and soars. She is so unafraid. Glances of amusement or alarm or even disapproval bounce off her unnoticed, like ineffectual arrows made of polystyrene. Fly my little girl, fly.
My Little Girl is kind.
It is a natural kindness, unaffected by learned and phony social graces. If one of her brothers cries, she will instinctively go to hug him. If someone is hurt she will ask if they want a kiss better and does it need a plaster? When she thinks no-one is listening she sings quiet songs to her teddies and treats them with such exceptional tenderness, I find myself wondering if she believes them capable of real feeling.
My Little Girl is beautiful.
She is so beautiful it actually makes my heart ache. I look at the fluffy halo of reddish curls that surround her happy little upturned face and I am sometimes overwhelmed with feeling. I want to scoop her up in my arms and bury my own face in her hair and take great gulping sniffs. I want to drink in her perfect essence, to eat her up, and to hold her close forever. I think if only I could tell her everything I know. I would tell her don’t listen, my little girl, to people who only ever notice how pretty you are. It is because deep down they think pretty is the best thing a girl can ever be. Do not allow them to stifle you with their lack of imagination. You have a million and one stars that pepper your sky like glitter. A million more stars than just plain pretty.
Awwwww, tomorrow is always the next day! Man, it’s like an unsolvable riddle. I love it!
They are very, very, very beautiful. These little girls. Thank you for sharing your everyday moments with yours!
Quite the philosopher isn’t she? I’m glad you enjoyed the post. x
What a lovely piece of writing. Your little girl sounds just delicious
how lucky she is to have a mummy who can express her thoughts and feelings so beautifully. I’d be bowled over if my mum had written something like that about me!
Ah thank you. I did wonder if perhaps it didn’t just come across as being overly sentimental and indulgent, but it was from the heart and I’m glad you liked it.
A post that speaks volumes of the love you feel for your little girl. She’s lucky to have such a wonderful mum who has plenty of stars of her own.
Thank you Steve. Was slightly concerned that it would just make everyone want to chuck, but it appears not, which is good.
Lovely post. I love Tomorrow is always the next day. So true. Bet she had you there. xxx
She did. She often does. I dread to think what it’ll be like when she’s a teenager!
I really like that last paragraph especially. And oh I know that feeling of being overwhelmed by a three-year-old’s beauty and wanting to sweep them up in your arms and hold on forever. Thanks for the reminder of these beautiful moments. Top writing.
Thank you Flo. I don’t often write about my kids but this post just seemed to come out of nowhere. She’s pretty good inspiration I guess.
Beautiful post x
Thank you PhotoPuddle. x
Awwww! What a beautiful post, she’s very luck to have a mummy like you. Your love just shines through
Yes, I never cease to be bowled over by the strong emotions that my children elicit from me – both positive and negative. They really do bring out the best and the worst in us I think.
What a lovely post! Admittedly, I had tears in my eyes as I read the last part – I think exactly the same of my two sons. They’re both beautiful little boys and I wouldn’t swap them for the whole world.
xx
Do you know what the funny thing is though? A mere 12 hours after publishing this post she was driving me mental!
Wow, this is awesome writing. This gave me goose bumps. I am enthralled with you mother’s love in all your words. Your description of the many aspects of your wonderful daughter moves me intensely and I am going to send this to my daughter. Not as if I am sending it. I am forwarding this post to my daughter because I know she will relate to every word.
What an absolute honour that you would want to send this to your own daughter Technobabe. I’m really touched.
Beautiful!
Thank you Spencer. x
Such beautiful sentiment – you said it so well x
Hey MOAM! It’s lovely to ‘see’ you still around. Thank you for such a lovely comment. xxx
Stunning piece of writing Gappy. Left me breathless. Especially the last paragraph.
Woweeee
Wow thank you – what a lovely thing to say. I was really conscious of wanting to do her justice you know?
Gappys brother’s first joke (aged around 3):
‘Do you know why they call it Waitrose?’
‘No, why do they…..’
‘Because you have to wait in rows.’
Da DA!!
Yes – it was quite funny the first few times I seem to remember….
I was just trying to demonstrate how Your Youngest’s humour had perhaps been in part inherited from her uncle!
This is such lovely writing. Tonight though, it has tipped me over the edge. Your little girl sounds divine.
MD xxx
I’ve just read your post. I’m so sorry all this is happening. Am thinking of you and sending lots of love and support. x
This is so moving! It’s my first time here and this has compelled me to visit again and again. Your little girl sounds lovely and she’s very lucky to have a mummy who can express her love so eloquently