‘Mummy!’ – It’s a phrase I hear every day, over and over and over again. You’d presume I’d hear it from the medically complex, highly dependant three year old, but it’s not him, it’s the sassy, fierce five year old.
You see, Mia is my first born, my baby. She is content, happy, confident and clever. She amaze’s me every day with the love she show’s to everyone she meets, but like a house of cards, it take’s one knock, one push from an excitable little brother or a jokey comment from a school friend, and all that confidence tumbles into tears.
She’s not whingey or weak, shy or withdrawn, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a delicate soul. She feels love deeply for a child of her age, and show’s it in the most beautiful ways. She genuinely care’s for the world around her and concerns herself with the plight of others.
On a few occasion’s recently I’ve caught her watching the news or reading newspaper articles, I want her to be inquisitive, not naive about the world we live in, but how can you explain perils such as war and poverty to a child who would give her last sweet to the child looking dejected on the bus, just because?
I spent a long time trying to boost her bravado, I assumed that she was just a particularly fragile toddler, but I no longer try to ‘toughen her up’. I’ve learnt to love her view on the world and embrace her inner beauty. For I know that the older she get’s, the wiser she will become. She’ll meet such a variety of people, and give love to them all.
And that make’s me immensely proud.