A Mother’s Day message from my three-year-old

If she could write. And had an adult’s vocabulary.

Dear Mummy,

I love you. Not as much as I love Daddy and The BSCB because, you know they’re just better, but I do love you. Because I love you so much, like to the window and back, I’ve decided to write a letter to thank you for everything you do for me…

First of all, thank you for giving birth to me. Apparently you felt like you were sitting on a golf ball for a while afterwards. That sounds like fun. I like golf, and daddy does. I’m a bit sad that we haven’t played this game where we hide golf balls by sitting on them. Can we play that game again some time? You have to share.

I’ve also heard you talking to your friends about how hard you have found it. I’m not exactly sure what was hard but you seem to be drinking tea and eating cake whenever you say it so perhaps it was difficult to make the tea? I promise to help you make cups of tea more in the future. I’m really good at pouring milk, and putting sugar in, and carrying cups of scalding hot liquid. I am certain that if I help you it will make you feel happier.

Thank you for cooking me nutritious meals. And then grilling some fish fingers when I don’t like it when I haven’t tried it but it’s horrible. I like that you believe what I say and take me seriously. This makes me feel powerful. I know you have found feeding me stressful at times, and you’ve been concerned about the lack of variety in my diet. So I know you’ll be chuffed to hear that I have decided to add two new food groups to my repertoire – chocolate and Haribo are really yummy, who knew?

Thank you for getting me out of difficult situations. That time in the shop when I asked the man for Brown Balls, he really didn’t seem to know what I meant. I felt really sad when that happened because I really did want Brown Balls for a treat. You explained to him that I wanted Maltesers and that made it better. Thank you for that. Oh, and you look really pretty when your face goes that pink colour you know. Pink is my favourite colour. I think you are my favourite when you are pink.

Thank you for teaching me how to get myself out of difficult situations. That day at soft play when the bridge was windy, I thought I needed your help to get back across. You explained from down below me, where you were sitting with your friends, that the wind was just the air coming from the ventilation system. I don’t know what that is but you were right and it only took me 15 minutes of crying before I crawled back across the bridge and was able to climb down to you. Thank you for supporting me to develop my independence.

Thank you for wiping my wee off the slide at soft-play. Thank you for wiping my bum, my chin, my nose. Thank you for looking at the wall whenever I am doing a poo. Thank you for spending several minutes every time I fall over convincing me that I don’t need a plaster on my ouchy. Thank you for coming to see me in the middle of the night whenever you are feeling lonely and need to squeeze into my bed to give me a cuddle. I know I’d find your bed a bit too big and scary too so I don’t mind you coming to sleep with me.

Thank you for playing “Never let you go.” Thank you for not singing along to “Annie”. Thank you for dancing with me. Thank you for being you. I love you.

Lots of love and licks, The Eldest.

PS. The BSCB says thanks for keeping him alive. Hourly. And especially in the early days when I wasn’t very keen. Oh, and for letting him eat ALL the food. Sorry he can’t write for himself, he’s only a baby.

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