Letter to a 5 year old

My darling baby girl. Yesterday you turned 5. I can hardly believe that five years have passed and here you are about to start school. You are desperate to start school, and ask me every day how many days it is now. I have mixed feelings. I know that you are ready, oh so very ready, to take that next step into the world, and there is a part of me that is ready too. However there is also a part of me that almost cannot bear the thought. We went for a baby cino the other day. I had my soy latte and you had your little cup of froth. This has been one of our 'things', we call it having coffee together and you laugh at the idea that you are having 'coffee'. I looked at you sitting there with the chocolate powder all over your nose and my heart broke a little as I realised that our days of doing this together, just the two of us, are numbered. Since Hannah started school it has been just you and I, hanging out together playing 'Guess Who?' or 'The Wiggles Game' or watching Play School, doing the shopping or running errands and now my little companion is going off to big school. I will miss you.

I wonder how school will change you, you have always been shy and until this year didn't want me to leave straight away when I dropped you off at kindy. Now you are more confident and while you still like me to stay a while, you don't mind when I go. Today you had a school visit and you went off without a backward glance, but when I came to pick you up you you ran to me the way you always do and tonight, like every other night, you wanted me to lie beside you for a while after stories. Sometimes I do that all the while thinking of what I need to do when I go back through - not tonight though, tonight I lay a little bit longer and just appreciated the moment.

I'm writing this post as much for me as for you, I want to remember all the things that you did when you were 4. I want to remember how sweet you are, how you never expect presents for your birthday and seem surprised when we ask you what you want. You don't demand parties or tell us 6 months ahead of time what you want for Christmas. You are accepting and placid and loving. No-one tells me they love me as often as you do - that is several times a day. Your favourite is that you love me 'from here to the moon and back.... as big as the world.... as big as the universe and even as big as the Eiffel Tower!!' in your mind that is the ultimate in size, forget that measly old universe, you love as big as the Eiffel Tower (Gustave would be really chuffed about that). Sometimes you even tell me you love me in sign language - words are never enough. You call me sweet mummy and tell me I smell like rainbows. Today you were delighted to see I was wearing my black t-shirt, it didn't matter to you that it is an old, rather shabby black t-shirt, you loved it and told me how glad you were that I was wearing it again and how nice it looked. All this love isn't exclusively for me, you adore your daddy and your sister, you would give Hannah everything you owned.

Of course it has to be said that you are also pretty feisty at times, as generous as you are to Hannah you also torment the living daylights out of her, you know exactly how to push her buttons and do so whenever the mood takes you. You take my breath away at times with your mastery of comeback lines. One day when you were being particularly naughty and rude I told you I didn't like rude little girls, to which you instantly replied 'well I don't like cross mummies'. Last week I was very busy (organising your party in fact) and you were hassling me for something, eventually I snapped that I would do it in a minute, you looked at me solemnly and asked if I wanted to do some meditation, when I asked why you said 'because meditation is good for you, it makes you calm and happy'. Point taken.

Happy Birthday Ash, I love you as big as the Eiffel Tower....and then some.

Checking out the universe...