Dear my beautiful wee Chunk,
You fell asleep on the couch beside me last night – for the first time in a long time. I miss when I used to be able to cuddle you to sleep. So today, I thought I’d write you this letter.
You drive me insane. You are the most stubborn, grumpy, independent little boy I have ever met and I love you all the more for it.
You and Aidy are so different. Where Aidy can sit and read a book or draw, you have to constantly be in at something, climbing something, breaking something, arguing with something….
Today I realised you are not a baby anymore. We have no nappies in the house. No night-time pants. No dummies. No bottles. You wear the same size of clothes as Aidy (apart from the trousers – sorry son, you inherited my unnaturally short chunky legs.) You ask to be left alone in the toilet. You want to pour out your own breakfast. You refuse to wear anything that isn’t your bright yellow fisherman’s jacket or your fireman wellies or your spiderman trainers – even though you stood in fox poo and your shoes stink. You ask if you can wear daddy’s deodorant. You’ve went from being my tiny wee baby – to a granda in a toddler’s body.
You’ve just turned 3 – please stop getting older.
I love how affectionate you are. You love cuddles and kisses and I’m never one to turn them down. I love how completely insane you are – your hysterical laugh has me in stitches. You love toys – and I love to hear you having fully blown conversations for hours at a time when you’re playing. I love how you love to start arguments (sometimes) – and how you never back down. I love how if Aidy is in bother you are the first to ‘back him up’ although we really need to have the “violence is not an option” talk boyo! I love how you blame everything on your Granda Donald. I love how you have the most mental bed-head in the mornings but you refuse to let me fix it because it “looks cool”. I love how you love your bed and sleep. I love how you eat an absolutely ridiculous amount of food – you’re like a bottomless pit! I love how if I am on the phone you insist on speaking – no matter who it is – and I can never get it back off of you. Mr Gab-a-minute.
I hate that you are growing up.
Stay 3 forever my little mad man…please?
All my love, cuddles and kisses, forever and always,