Friday, 17 June 2011

Flower girl

A few months ago Isabella was a flower girl for her Aunty Amy's wedding. She knew it was a big day. For the last two months she had been admiring the "Amy-Josh wedding shoes" as she called them. I had stored the white, ballet bling shoes up high in a shoe box but somehow she always managed to coax me into letting her wear them at least every few days. When she put these little shoes on, the clip-clop of the tiny heels kept her amused for hours. In these shoes she was no longer a baby girl but a big girl.

When the big "Amy-Josh Wedding Day" arrived, it was finally time for her to wear the much-awaited for wedding shoes. This time she could actually keep them on and wear a beautiful flower girl dress to match. The dress was gorgeous - a delicate vintage dress with lace trimming, pearl buttons and silky ribbons. Once she was dress she knew she looked beautiful. While all the bridesmaids and the bride were having photos and buzzing around adding last minute touches to their hair and makeup, Isabella sat on the staircase, as poised a princess, back straight, head tall, observing all the excitement in the room below.

When it was time to walk down the aisle, she and her cousin Will, who too was only young at 3 years of age, walked all the way down the aisle holding hands. I was one proud mumma! She did so well and looked absolutely beautiful, just as the bride did!

After the wedding she took to the floor and danced up a storm, moving and grooving. She even tried to pick up a little lad who was wearing a suit and bow tie. But he palmed her off saying she was too old for him...a couple of months is a big age gap when you’re talking one year olds.

It was a day she may forget but we never will. Her day as a flower girl marked the day when she was  no longer a baby but our little toddler lady! 

How the day begins...

"Muuuummmy! Mum, mum, mum, mummy!"

It's 6.34am and like every morning for the last 20 months I awake to "Mini", my toddler, Isabella (Issy), who also happens to be my daily alarm clock.

I know that if I lie here long enough "muuuummmy" will soon change to daaadddy!".Thankfully, daddy can't resist those early morning calls, unlike myself who tries to hide under the covers for as long as possible.

Once daddy tumbles out of bed, changes Isabella's nappy and feeds her two and a half Weetbix it's all over to me. I am in a half dream state when I feel the mattress beneath me sink and bounce.

"Mummmy! Sleep?" I hear Isabella yell as she bounds across the mattress to examine my face.I roll over and see the cutest, brightest face staring at me through the slated sunlight that streams through the wooden blinds. The sun stings my eyes and I shut them tight. I then feel Issy lunge forward and plant a sloppy, wet, milky kiss on my lips.

"Sleep?" she queries, as she stabs her chubby, little finger into my left eye.

"Ouch, not anymore," I reply, rubbing my eye, I look up snd smile at her, wrapping my arms around her for a cuddle. Smiling, she nuzzles into my shoulder, "Mummy."

... And then i smell it....the morning poo.

Second nappy change already. Why does the poo always come after you just put a fresh nappy on?

I grab Issy from under the arms and swing her off the bed and into her room. After 20 months you would expect the poo thing to get better. But in many ways, although it's less frequent, it's smellier and more human-like which adds a bigger cringe factor. Plus meat never comes out smelling like it went in. It ferments. Especially when it's last night's spag bowl. As I clean up the mess I remind myself that in just a few months we'll be toilet training.

So, this is how most “Mini and Me” days begins, it's usually followed by eating, cleaning up mess from eating, playing, eating, cleaning up mess, playing, sleeping, eating, cleaning up mess, playing, eating, cleaning up, bath, sleeping.

But there's so much else that goes on in between...and this is what this blog is for, to capture the fun, silliness, craziness and adventures that belong to being 1, 2 or 3 and the lessons learnt in between.