Your First Christmas

Dearest Miss Annie,
Only a few days ago you had your very first Christmas. It's true to say that Mumma was more excited than you and Dada put together. I have really started to enjoy the festive season. You have brought back the excited child in me.

This Christmas was spent at Nana Jane and Poppy's house. We are still working tirelessly on our own home, trying so very hard to get it finished and move your cot in so that you feel some sense of normality, homeliness, security. It hasn't phased you though, all the moving around. You love getting up in the morning to a line of smiling faces as they come out from their bedrooms. Dada, Nana, Poppy, Maggie, Archie and me. It's a never ending playfest with you as the headlining act. I've never seen your toes move with so much excitement.

On Christmas Eve the entire family came to Brighton. Aunty Briggie, Uncle George, Great Aunt Mary....boy oh boy, you were so overwhelmed and so over tired I thought you would never go to sleep. But eventually you did. In our room, tucked into the portacot that Nana Jane had bought. Sweet, sweet Christmas dreams floating through you crystal mind. How soft and still you look when you sleep. How tempting it is to lean in and kiss your forehead. Your face is relaxed and complexion flushed. Your hands are lightly closed and your lips only slightly parted. It's a baby that just begs to be kissed!

On Christmas morning you woke Dada and I at 5:15am. Ugh! That hurt. Especially after two helpings of dinner and waaaaaay to much wine. But your little smile made up for it. Once you had your bottle (because nothing gets done in the morning until milk warms your belly) we sat you up in the living room and watched you pull things from your stocking. You were so surprised at all the books. Truly delighted. It was wonderful to watch. It wasn't long before you cottoned on to the fact that glossy paper means new toys. You surrounded yourself with new books and new stacking toys and the toes just moved and moved.







In the afternoon we travelled over for dinner at Aunty Ingrid's house. All Mummas family were there. Nana, Poppa, Aunty Deb, Liz and Uncle Keith. You love hanging out with your cousins. Especially Harrison. He is very protective over you. Always ensuring that you are safe and happy. By the end of the day, you, Dada and Mumma were pretty knackered so we all ventured back to Nana Elliott's house and settled in for the night. I watched you sleep again. My little girl. One month away from turning one year old.






By the steadiness of your breath and the smile on your sleeping face I concluded you had enjoyed your very first Christmas. It's probably not one that you will remember in the years to come, but it is one that me, your Mumma, shall never forget. Merry Christmas Miss A and a Happy New Year.

Love Mumma
xx

ironic.

Quickly wanted to share that Miss Annie had a sleepover at her Nana Jane and Poppy's house last night. Ben and I hit the town for a Progressive Dinner on Southbank with friends. It was to be our big night out followed by an even bigger sleep.

When we got home the house felt empty. I stayed in her room for a little bit looking at some hair on her sheet and missing her cute little smile. I wished I had kissed her a little more when I said my goodbyes. I wanted to smell her milky soft skin.

We climbed into bed, excited at the prospect of a night's uninterrupted sleep. In reality what we got was Ben waking up at 3am and not being able to sleep. And me, confused with sleep and the two glasses of wine I had, waking every hour or so just to realise she wasn't there, she wasn't going to wake for a feed, and 'no' it wasn't quite morning when I could race over and pick her up!

what you're up to.

My Annie,
Little one you are so big now. I look at you and marvel. I see how big you're getting and I feel a little sad. My newborn is gone. My baby is growing up. And my you are a trick and a bit!



In one week you will be a whole 6 months old. Count em. That's half a year! That's half Mumma's maternity leave!! You have some sizable feet now. I was kissing them yesterday, tempting you to laugh and I stopped momentarily to relish the moment. I took a good long look at those little feet with the teeny tiny toes. All of it sooooo divine. You have one toe that hangs back from the others. It's a little shy. Dada thinks there's something wrong with it and wants to send you back to the man for an exchange. But I love Mr Odd Toe Out. He is a statement of individuality. He is a champion amongst meager toes. He is just like you.



There are things that you like to do and things that you simply will not put up with. You like to have kisses on your neck and raspberries on your belly. You absolutely love it when I sing to you and daggy dance in the living room. You think Maggie is the best toy you ever have. Not only does she move and make noise by herself, but instead of imitation kisses she actually does kiss you. You also like your baby rice cereal with deep determination. When I bring out the bowl, your right leg starts fitting with anticipation. You want it, and you want it NOW! When I pop you back into bed at night, just after your little mini feed (that we're hoping will phase out soon and mean a sleep right through) you love it when I rest my hand on your stomach just to make you feel secure while I tuck you in and stroke your cheek and whisper good night.



On the 'things you don't like' I will start with Dada dressing you after a bath. You're kind of impatient with him. A little hostile in fact. He tries so hard to be gentle with you. To completely dry every last section of your body. He rolls you over for a little tummy time, right at the point where you would prefer to have your eye poked out with a butter knife. You grunt and groan and whine and moan at Dada until you finally get your way. I've got no idea where you get that from.



You also don't like to be in the car seat for too long. We've come to learn this from our Saturday morning family ritual of looking for houses. You don't like to be left alone in the living room with only Chopin to accompany you. You really don't like to be woken up. Not now. Not ever. You would rather slowly stir and then rise and shine like Cleopatra from a milk bath. You detest Mumma cutting your nails. I think that's also a patience issue, since I stumble my way through it hoping not to catch your skin - again. And most of all you absolutely 100% cannot tolerate it when we take even one second longer than you have planned in your head to escort that bottle of wonderfully warm milk and guide it into your feverish mouth. You lose the plot.

It's funny, you know, all the things you love and all the things you hate happen to also be the best parts of my day. No matter how cranky, how cheery, how smelly, how wet, how vomity, how wriggly, how inconsolable, how snotty or how bossy you decide to be, I still love you ardently. For ever and ever and ever. Always.

Love Mumma
xx