Dear Olive,
Is there any monsters in my bedroom? You asked as I was tucking you into bed, on your face a look of complete seriousness with a side note of fear. For a moment, I panicked, where has this come from? And what should I do? Should I look in cupboards? Should I laugh? Should I cry? Instead, I just said no. No! Everything about you is so beautifully, intimately, familiar. From your lovely slender set of toes with the long third one, to the smell of your farts. And yet, so much still takes me by surprise. When did you learn about monsters, and how? I've had these jolting moments lately where I've looked at you with wonder, one thought racing through my mind - who are you? You just seem, so ... old. Your conversations. Your socialising. Your weaning. You realise it too. Everything you say, want to do, is about growing up. I'm not a big girl, I'm growing up into a big girl. I'm a little big girl. When I'm older I can fly all by myself on the plane to coffs harbour. When I'm older I might be a boy. When I'm older I can catch the train all by myself and go to the zoo. Even though I know you so well, so much about you is still an exciting mystery. So much yet to be revealed, so much possibility ahead of you. I'm almost certain we won't find any monsters hiding in the bedroom along the way. But I'm happy to check if you need me to.
Is there any monsters in my bedroom? You asked as I was tucking you into bed, on your face a look of complete seriousness with a side note of fear. For a moment, I panicked, where has this come from? And what should I do? Should I look in cupboards? Should I laugh? Should I cry? Instead, I just said no. No! Everything about you is so beautifully, intimately, familiar. From your lovely slender set of toes with the long third one, to the smell of your farts. And yet, so much still takes me by surprise. When did you learn about monsters, and how? I've had these jolting moments lately where I've looked at you with wonder, one thought racing through my mind - who are you? You just seem, so ... old. Your conversations. Your socialising. Your weaning. You realise it too. Everything you say, want to do, is about growing up. I'm not a big girl, I'm growing up into a big girl. I'm a little big girl. When I'm older I can fly all by myself on the plane to coffs harbour. When I'm older I might be a boy. When I'm older I can catch the train all by myself and go to the zoo. Even though I know you so well, so much about you is still an exciting mystery. So much yet to be revealed, so much possibility ahead of you. I'm almost certain we won't find any monsters hiding in the bedroom along the way. But I'm happy to check if you need me to.
* You started weaning yourself a few months ago. I felt gutted when I realised it was happening. But the whole thing is happening so slowly, I've gotten used to the idea and I'm feeling ready to let it go too. (Almost starting to look forward to the day, too.)
22 comments:
dear olive, you are delightful - your words so beautiful.
dear kellie, i remember the 'letting go' moment so clearly..that's when i knew it was the right time x
Oh Kellie, you reallready the most beautiful wotrds. And Olive, you sound more awesome with every letter your Mama writes. Your the kind of girl I wish Josephine could be mates with. Xx
Ps. Bloody iPhone!!!!!
That's a beautiful post Kel, you write so so well. U should write a book! xoxoxoxox
Such a gorgeous post, Kellie. It's amazing to think that they are their own little people, right?! x
Gorgeous! My son is almost 9 and the surprises keep coming! Enjoy! xx
Ahh the monsters. We started getting that a few months ago and it now includes the bears, Scarface Claw, the shark and the dragon. Cute and amusing and alarming. He now has to sleep with the door wide open and bathroom light on. Bless.
At least they have a good imagination! x
So bloody beautiful Kellie. Even the part about the farts! Olive is such an old soul. She's always been wise beyond her years. All 2 of them anyway. I'm so glad you record all these anecdotes. I wish I had done more of this for Oli. Have a lovely weekend xx
Oh she is just too gorgeous! I tell my two that the only monsters in their bedroom is them! xx
Oh and that last photo of Olive is divine. She is beautiful Kellie. xx
Oh sob Kellie! What a beautiful post...
Watching and wondering about my children is one of my favorite things to do too xxx
Sweet, sad and so, so true. I've watched 2 pass through this and it really is bittersweet... the last, is yet to go there. Love your words x C
Oh, and watching those toes in the grip of puberty is another thing altogether! x C
Amazing, gorgeous, beautiful post.
Amazing imagination, she's going to be so clever, she already is. You've done an amazing job with the breastfeeding, it's such a beautiful complicated thing.
such a beautiful post. :) xo
Beautiful! Lovely blog! I have just discovered you, and I'm a new follower!
Best,
Anne ♥
You know, I still have fears of monsters in my bedroom. Granted those fears are usually that a snake has found it's way under my bed - and I think this is entirely reasonable given we've had no less than 5 snakes find their way into our house this year! Loving your blog!
Thank you for the kind comments on my blog kellie.
I have been thinking about my son river growing up too of late. At 9 weeks I still know him so well and he doen't really have a life outside of me. As he grows and absorbs everything around him (at such a rapid speed they learn, wow!) I know there will be things that slip in that I do not expect or wish I could protect him from. but I suppose there is joy in the moments where he surprises me and how he will become his own person.
Jaclyn
I remember the first time our Angus asked me that and it completely took me by surprise. Where DO they learn about monsters?
This was a beautiful post. It's so wonderful that you have this record for Olive. And thank you for sharing it with us.
Ronnie xo
What a sweet sweet post! Love this and the pics, Olive you are super sweet! xx Tam
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