Dear Frankie,

Thirteen years ago I was about to embark on the biggest adventure of my life to date.

PARENTING.

I was incredibly excited and nervous in equal measure. 

I didn’t sleep very well in the run up to meeting you, I tried to, but as you know, I can have an over active imagination and I was trying to anticipate everything that was to come. 

So silly, but it’s how my mind was trying to process such a big step in my life.

I was picturing every scenario in my head in preparation for our attachment.

When I met you for the first time and as I looked into your eyes, I searched for our future.  It’s not that I was trying to fast forward things it’s just that I was 37 and you were 1.

We didn’t have much to go on in the beginning.

I was approaching middle age and you were cutting your back teeth. 

We couldn’t have been more poles apart.

Now of course, things are very different. We have so much in common and can do stuff together, you now do so much for me too.

When you were 1, you hadn’t learned to walk yet, so I wheeled you everywhere, I carried you in my arms, on my chest, my shoulders, my back.

You were quite the workout.

You couldn’t feed yourself, chew and swallow properly yet, so I mashed up your roast dinner for you and dive bombed it into your mouth while making aeroplane engine noises.

Sometimes that worked, sometimes it didn’t. I think you knew I wasn’t an aeroplane but you were either hungry or just humouring me, I wasn’t always sure.

Nappy changes were an opportunity to sing and make you laugh while you lay on your changing mat, grabbed your feet and tried to roll over. 

These freshen up sessions didn’t always go to plan however, and I used as many wet wipes on myself if I’m honest. You were so much quicker than me at times.

When you learned to use a potty and became dry at bedtimes, my finances started to recover a little and my bathroom cupboards gained more shelf space.

Just when I had learned to take care of 1 year old you, you turned 2 and then 3, 4 and then 5.

I was now in my forties and time seemed to be flying by.  

Where had my baby gone? 

We were now walking together hand in hand to school. You were happily tucking into your packed lunch at dinner time and taking yourself to the infant toilets at playtime.

You didn’t need me for any of those things any more.

It all seemed to happen so fast.

And here we are now. I’m 50 and you’re 14.

When I looked into your eyes for the very first time, I didn’t just see a baby, I saw my daughter, my future, my everything.

I couldn’t possibly have predicted how we got here, but we did. 

We attached.

We grew together.

We always will.

Forever yours,

Mum x

12/11/2024