It's a gas...

Rosie is two today.  And she is a complete gas.  I'd characterise her as happy, vivacious, intelligent, fun, loving, independent and stubborn. I don't have the network to make comparisons these days, which is probably just as well, but the nursery tell us she is well ahead of the game and seems to be getting on top of numbers and counting, copies almost everything we say, is most definitely comprehensible and knows who she is. 

That's "Wosie".

Was it really only a year ago that the Cremorne Mother's Group, together with awkward fathers, gathered for that first birthday party at Clontarf reserve?  And two years since I sat on the bog with that gas and air?  The more time goes by the more I look back in horror ... pregnancy, birth and the first year...  I certainly made the best of it and for months at a time I was genuinely enjoying myself, but it never really felt like me - more something I was play-acting at.  As time goes on, you grow into motherhood like a new skin which feels very weird to start with - and probably felt specially so to me because of the traumatic circumstances of her birth, and where I was living.   

However,  there is a huge (and welcome) difference between being glued to a wailing, crawling, incomprehensible bundle and spending time with a rushing, bold, nattering, nutter who, oh yes makes herself understood...

"Mickle; mummy; two-two, now?"

Dearest mummy (well perhaps not the first bit as daddy currently gets all the kisses), please may we go down the stairs (two twos) and watch Iggle piggle in the night garden.. now)

I knew I did languages for a reason....

24.4.08 17:30