My First-Born

I was having one of those moments.

There were so many thoughts in my head, but each time I tried to write, the words tumbled out in torrential sentences that only I understand. I was thinking about my first-born, the amazing little person she is. My heart was filled with such an immense gratitude for the privilege of being her mother. I write and re-write, but my emotions continued to dip into my words and mix them all up. So I stopped. I sat for some time scrolling through photos of her. Then I attempted to write again.

She's all of three years now, and so grown-up she is.

She wants her hair long, just like mama. Her hair is often tied messily in a loopy bun. Just like mama too.

She adores shoes. Oh yes she does. She loves to try on shoes when we are at the shops, and wonders when she will be allowed high-heels.

But she's also a little monkey, this one. See how she does her 'double-up'. 

This is my little girl who tells me ever to often that I am not allowed to go back to work. Because your children need you to take care of them she says. One person working is enough. Referring to her beloved Daddy of course.

She comes home every day from school with a card she has made for me, or a dried leaf, or any special something, just to tell me that she thought of me, and loves me.

A little word-smith, she rattles off non-stop, and asks a thousand questions. "Why Mummy?" "What happens if, Mummy?" being the two popular queries. The latter sometimes leads us to co-creating gorgeously out of this world stories that leave us both collapsing into chuckles, in each others' arms.

She has grown to be very aware of people and situations around her. She notices when grown-ups are upset, and tells us not to be so, and to be nice to each other. Smile, Mummy, I want you to smile?

She can rattle off not only classmates' names, but also which countries they come from, what shoes they wear, what each brings in their snack-box, and who is potty-trained! She tells me what so-and-so does, and requested for her hair to be tied this way, because a certain Miss C, an older schoolmate, has her hair tied with many braids too. Very fancy she says. And oh, Miss C has a brother in my class. He has curly hair.

With this awareness, there are now a few children she firmly calls friends. These are the ones who were invited to her recent birthday party. She squeals (sometimes shrieks) with excitement when she knows a play date has been planned, or if she sees some of them at the playground. She wants to make things for them, and talks about what they could be doing at any time of the day.

Funnily, she has grown to dislike having her photos taken more than ever. I inwardly groan whenever I am asked to produce a photo for special occasions, because I really don't have any nice ones. So I often hold her smiling face and imprint it firmly in my memory. 

How has she been as a newly minted older sister? I think she's still figuring this one out. It hasn't been easy for her, especially when it comes to reduced time alone with Mummy. She has been learning though, putting her finger to her lips as she creeps into my room when I put Bun to sleep. Always getting clean diapers for me when Bun needs to be changed. Earnestly asking Is mei-mei asleep now Mummy? Yes? Now can you play with me/read to me/eat with me? while cocking her head in the cutest way.

But I pray she will get there. That both my girls will be loving, close and firm friends. The type of sisters who do all sorts of things together, and talk till late into the night, pretending to be asleep when Mummy steps into the room.

This is her, and her baby sis. Both wearing similar denim pinafores because she insisted it must be so.

 

But of course she had to groan when I insisted on a picture ;)